Boy King of a Lot of Things | Part 8
Part 7
The next morning, Sam walked into the kitchen to find Dean nursing a cup of coffee and Jody nowhere in sight. (Hopefully she’d found her bed, Sam thought. Maybe he should go check on her.)
“Already checked on Jody,” Dean greeted him. “She’s totally out, but she looks alright otherwise. You think that you could go whammy her? She’s gonna be miserable when she wakes up.”
“I gotta talk to you first,” Sam said.
Dean raised an eyebrow and gestured toward a chair. “What’s up?” he said as soon as Sam sat down. “There some kinda caveat to those powers you got? Besides the whole ‘I’m immortal now’ schtick?” Dean sneered.
Sam understood why Dean felt the way he did, so he didn’t push back. “That’s…actually what I want to talk about,” he said.
“Oh, really?” Dean asked bitterly. “What more do you need to know than ‘I’m gonna live forever and you ain’t’?”
Sam hated when Dean’s Midwestern accent, buried deep but still there, came out. It only happened when he was either possessed or pissed. “Look, Dean,” he said quietly, “I can, as the Boy King or whatever, appoint one person to be my Advisor. Kinda like my right-hand man. You know, equal in everything but power.” He took a deep breath, saw that Dean was listening carefully. “You’d be immortal, like me. And…pretty damn durable. So, uh, don’t go getting dismembered if we do this?” He tried to laugh.
Dean did too. It didn’t work. (Apparently Hell and Lucifer had similar ideas. Sam felt awful for bringing it up.)
Dean asked, “So how much crazy shit do we need Cas to find before I’m your Advisor?”
“Well, um, actually, it’s…it’s just a forehead kiss,” Sam said. “No ritual, not weird ingredients.”
Dean blinked. “Hold the fuck up. Just a forehead kiss? You’re fuckin’ kidding.”
Sam laughed again, this one genuine. “Dude, that was my exact reaction,” he said.
Dean shrugged. “Well, hell, if that’s all it takes lay one on me.”
“Wait, Dean, you should think about this. It’s not like what burger toppings you want. This is literally life-changing, okay? I don’t want you rushing-”
“Will it make me immortal as you?” Dean asked quietly, staring at Sam.
Sam nodded. He didn’t say anything. (Nothing needed to be said.)
Dean huffed. “Then what are you stalling for? C’mon, the answer’s yes, bitch.”
Sam got up and walked around the table. It felt strange to stand over Dean like this. It felt even stranger when Dean screwed his eyes shut and tilted his head back.
“Dude, are you puckering up?” Sam asked, almost laughing. “It’s just a kiss to the forehead!”
Dean shifted in his seat. “Shuddup, Sammy, I forgot about that part, okay?” He blushed just a bit.
Sam refused the urge to hold this moment in time. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead. It was a little oily and his nose smushed Dean’s gelled hair. But he felt the barest hint of power flow outward and knew it had worked. He leaned back.
“So, uh, did it work?” Dean asked. “Because, I, uh, I don’t feel any different.”
On the surface, Dean seemed the same. Sam looked closer. Threads of bright power coursed through Dean’s body like veins. “Trust me,” Sam said, “You are.”
“Okay then,” Dean said. “Now what?”
“Now,” Sam said, “I am going to go find Jody and get rid of her hangover. Then I’m finding Chuck so that we can figure out how we’re stopping Amara.”
Dean nodded. “Then I’m gonna finish my coffee and find you.”
---------------
Healing Jody was a matter of seconds. She woke up when he finished and blinked up at him with his hand still on her head.
“Uh, hey, Jody,” he said.
“Sam,” she began slowly, “Did you just cure my hangover?”
“Yes?”
She sighed and straightened before realizing that she was still in last night’s clothes, which still smelled faintly of whiskey. “I’m very grateful,” she said, “But I need a shower. Badly. So you get out and tell everyone to do their business, because I am locking that door behind me, and no one is getting in.”
“Of course,” Sam said, and started heading back to the kitchen to tell Dean. He didn’t think that Cas or Chuck would need to use the facilities, so Dean was the only other person he had to warn.
On that thought, where were Cas and Chuck?
A teenager exuding a very familiar power appeared in front of him. Sam reached for his angel blade, or even a firearm. He realized he wasn’t packing at all and cursed his stupidity. If Lucifer could get in, who knew what else -
“Hello, Lucifer,” Chuck said as he rounded the corner. “Sam, please don’t be afraid. I allowed him to enter.”
When Lucifer saw Chuck, Sam felt his power in the room writhe, and his vessel’s face contorted in anger. Sam was about to find Dean and Jody, get the hell out, and damn the consequences to the building when Chuck held up a hand and said, “Not here, Lucifer.”
They both vanished.
Sam breathed out and relaxed.
Then Cas came running around the corner breathing hard, eyes wild. “Sam! I felt-”
“Yeah,” Sam said, still trying to get his own heartrate down. “Yeah, Chuck is dealing with him. I guess Chuck called him in as reinforcements or something.”
Cas shuddered, and it didn’t look voluntary. “I don’t - I don’t think that I could work with him,” he said.
Sam nodded, quietly thinking that, even if Lucifer was their only hope of having a chance, he wouldn’t want to work with the archangel. He didn’t say it out loud, because he had a bad feeling that they’d be working with Lucifer whether they wanted to or not.
“Why don’t you come with me and we can make some eggs, maybe some bacon. Even angels can eat breakfast,” he said. “C’mon. They’ll be gone a while.”
Cas nodded once, still looking hunted. He followed Sam, though, and sat at the table quietly. Dean, who was still nursing a cup of coffee, gave Sam a questioning look, but Sam shook his head and Dean dropped it. Jody walked in, and a look from Dean and Sam both had her holding in her questions. Once all the people in the Bunker were in the kitchen, Sam explained in as few words as possible what had happened: Lucifer appeared, Chuck appeared, mentioned that he called Lucifer, and then they disappeared.
Every time Sam mentioned Lucifer, Cas flinched. Sam did his best to keep it to a minimum, but sometimes he just had to. Sam hoped that Cas was alright; he wouldn’t poke around in Cas’ head, not after just being freed from being possessed.
They all sat and ate breakfast, or in Dean’s case got another cup of coffee, waiting for Chuck and Lucifer to show back up.
---------------
Sam could understand why Lucifer was angry. Hell, he’d been stuck in a Cage with his issues for hundreds of years. He knew down to every sordid detail Lucifer’s daddy issues. He also knew that Lucifer was probably blowing something up in anger right now. Which is why he thanked God (ironically and literally) that Chuck had taken him away from the Bunker.
It wasn’t even that Lucifer was angry at God, really, Sam figured. No, it was more like Lucifer wanted to be acknowledged again. He’d been cast away, and now he longed for God to acknowledge him. But because he was the living embodiment of pride, that led to even more angst.
Sam hoped he’d get over it by the time Chuck brought him back. He really didn’t want to have to deal with it (again).
---------------
Two hours later, the dishes were all washed and dried and everyone had huddled in the war room. Jody was quietly staring into the library; Sam wondered what she was thinking, but didn’t pry. He knew that she was overwhelmed at best; the worst she’d dealt with before this was vampires, and now he’d thrown her right into the showdown of the century.
Cas, on the other hand, was pacing. Dean watched him worriedly, but Sam let him pace. He needed to do something, Sam knew, but there was nothing to fight, nothing to confront.
The first warning that Chuck was returning was a ping (of sorts) on Sam’s powers. He straightened and Cas glanced over, going stiff. Apparently he felt it too.
Dean shifted, sneezing. He tensed and looked around. Sam wondered if his new power was reacting, too.
Jody clued in when the air was displaced with a small pop and Chuck and Lucifer appeared in the entrance to the library. She jumped, the only one not expecting something.
Lucifer looked angry still, but the power in the room was more relaxed than it had been. Chuck, on the other hand, looked like he hadn’t succeeded at what he’d set out to do. Sam wondered idly what had been said.
Obviously it hadn’t been quite the family reunion that either had been hoping for.
The first thing Lucifer said (and it was still so strange to see him in a teenager, but Sam couldn’t see a soul in the vessel, so he wasn’t going to argue) was an apology to Cas. It wasn’t received all that well. In fact, Sam was surprised Cas didn’t punch him, the way his face went hard.
Sam watched Lucifer puff up, probably about to take the moral high ground - I apologized so you should accept it - before Dean cut in, saying, “Can you fuckin’ blame him for not accepting your apology, you dick?”
Chuck glanced at Lucifer, a quick glance that Sam could tell conveyed a lot, and Lucifer deflated. “I suppose not,” he sighed.
Sam thought quietly, making sure to keep Lucifer from hearing him - he’d been practicing all night in pulling up shields - that he hadn’t forgiven anything Lucifer had done to him, either. Chuck obviously still heard him, because he glanced over at him, sadness obvious in his eyes. Understanding washed over him through the power in the room.
Sam stood up, already at the head of the war table. “C’mon, guys,” he said, trying to ignore how his voice wanted to shake at how Lucifer strolled closer. “We need to figure out how to beat Amara. She’s still ripping the world apart, and we don’t have much time before she gets close enough to sense the warding around this place.”
“Actually,” Chuck said, gravity behind his words, “I’ve been shielding this building from my Sibling’s sight completely for weeks. As far as they know, it’s just another meaningless blot on the landscape. But still, I agree - they must be stopped. Amara has already overrun Hell and is attempting to breach Purgatory and Heaven. Purgatory’s wards were already stretched thin, and a breach would cause havoc - the Leviathan would again be freed, and all manner of ancient monsters would walk free behind them. Amara has been having more trouble with Heaven, because I left a great many wards on its boundaries before I left. But my instructions to renew them every millennia have not been heeded for a long while, and they have grown weak.”
Castiel glanced up, confusion all over his face. “I have never heard of such wards or orders,” he said.
Chuck shrugged. “It is possible that, once the archangels withdrew, they were forgotten. No matter how it came about, it means that my Sibling is already near the weak points. They need only another day before the wards are breached. We must bring the fight to Amara, as you say.”
He turned to Jody, who was looking determined but scared stiff. “Jody Mills,” he said gently, “Your courage is admirable, truly. But you are the only true human here, and I worry about your safety when we face my Sibling. Would you allow me to put you to sleep, so that you sleep through the battle?”
Jody looked offended and relieved all at once, and she glanced around furtively. Sam nodded slightly, supportively, trying to send you’re only human, let us handle it vibes her way. He saw Dean do that same, worry on his brother’s face.
Jody agreed, voice shaking just the tiniest bit. The next instant, she vanished from the room, and Sam didn’t think that he imagined the relief in Chuck’s sigh.
With the war party, of a sort, together, they started discussion how they would draw Amara out. Chuck had said that he already had a plan to trap her, and that getting her to show up (and figuring out where to bring her) was key.
Lucifer suggested using Dean as bait, and Sam balked. “Hell no! I am not putting my brother in danger again!” he yelled.
Dean shook his head, saying, “It’s a good plan, Sam! She wants her Consort or whatever, so put me out there and make me a decoy! She’ll go after me, expectin’ a human, and she’ll not only get a powered-up me, but she’ll get you and the rest of us too.”
Sam turned to look around. Cas looked supremely uncomfortable with the idea, but he also looked like he’d go with whatever his Father said, so his support was right out. “C’mon, Chuck, there’s another way,” he urged. “Didn’t you say you were shielding yourself from her? She’s looking for you first. If you lower those shields, even a bit, she’ll show up for sure! We don’t even know if she’s looking for Dean right now or just tearing the world apart in a blind rage ‘cause you haven’t shown!”
Cas nodded slowly at Sam’s side, and even Lucifer looked interested. “That is a sound plan,” Cas said quietly, turning to Chuck. “Sam raises good points.”
Chuck sighed. “I know. But I will not lower my shields here. When I do, my Sibling will strike first. She would destroy this place to get at me. We must go somewhere more deserted, but where the boundaries between Planes are thin.”
Sam could think of only two places like that off the top of his head: Stull and the Wyoming cemetery. Chuck looked at him with a smile. “Yes, Stull would do.”
Dean groaned, “Oh, God, not again. I’ve had enough of showdowns in cemeteries, seriously now.”
Lucifer smirked. “Oh, the irony,” he said. “Fighting yet another adversary on the soil of that field.”
Chuck cut in before they started arguing. “Before we go to Stull, I need to give you these.” He held out a sword to each of them. They felt different to Sam - brighter, closer to the power that emanated from Chuck than an angel’s power. They had to be - “These are forged from a drop of my power. They will harm Amara, although they will not kill them.”
“Well why not?” Dean asked.
Chuck glanced over. “My Sibling is as vital to the universe as I am. They are Chaos, I am Order. We cannot exist without the other. The only reason I can act this drastically is that they have overset the Balance, and it is my duty to fix it. Otherwise you three would have been on your own.”
“Oh,” Dean said quietly.
Yeah. Oh. It was a little daunting (okay, a lot daunting) to be going up against what was literally a force of Creation. Even with the opposing force of Creation at their side.
How had he and Dean ever believed that they could do this on their own?
Chuck looked around. “It is time to go,” he said. “My Sibling is too close to entering Purgatory.” With that warning, the Bunker disappeared from around them, replaced with the bare grass and dilapidated graves of Stull Cemetery.
Just after they landed, Sam felt the shields around them fall. Then he felt Amara’s attention fall onto them.
Darkness filled the air, rose up from the ground. It became a rolling mass around them, in front of them. Instead of its normal shapeless mass, this Darkness held teeth and claws and tendrils with spikes. Sam was glad he’d anointed Dean before they’d come.
At least whatever killed Dean would kill him, too.
God, he felt naked standing here. He wished he had a gun, even if it was completely useless. It would make him feel better. Not packing left him with an empty spot in the small of his back. From the way Dean was twitching, he felt the same.
Lucifer, though, Lucifer looked scared stiff but determined to hide it. Sam remembered suddenly that Lucifer had already done this once, eons ago. He’d already faced Amara, and sure, he’d won, but he’d had all the might of Heaven (most of which was probably dead) behind him, along with his Father. He probably felt just as naked, Sam figured.
He hated being able to sympathize with the Devil.
Cas looked even worse than Lucifer when Sam looked closely. Sam didn’t think angels could sweat, but something was plastering Cas’ hair to the back of his neck. His grip on the blade his Father had given him was tight, and his knuckles were white as a sheet. But when he just glanced, Cas looked…put together. Stoic. A good soldier, ready to fight (to the death) for his commander’s cause.
It was times like this that Sam remembered that, before he’d ever even heard the name “Dean Winchester,” Cas had been a soldier. The leader of a garrison. He was more battle hardened than Sam could ever be.
Just then, Amara walked out of the darkest mass, tendrils of Darkness twining around her hands. Her black dress dragged on the grass, and her arms were still covered in specks of blood.
She looked ready and willing to kill without a thought.
“Hello, Sibling,” she greeted, eyes dark. “It’s been far too long.”
---------------
Lucifer knew the plan. His Parent had told him, after he had finished blowing a few new craters into Earth’s Moon.
It was a good plan. Lucifer knew it logically, as one of Heaven’s once-generals. In fact, it had no real downfalls, except for the time it would take his Parent to set it up, and for the way the Darkness could take notice at any moment if the battle lulled.
No, its only downfall was that he would not survive it.
He drew a deep breath, even though he didn’t need it. He understood why the Winchesters kept giving themselves up, now. His Parent had asked him without distraction or diversion to give himself up for the good of his siblings, and he had agreed.
He had already tortured them enough, he realized once his Parent had shown him how they cowered in Heaven, waiting for his return.
He loved them, he realized as he watched Bartilomeus stand and take charge. It was useless; he could have crushed any one of them (or many of them) with a thought. But they were trying, and that was…endearing. It was something that he’d always liked in his soldiers, when he was still a part of Heaven. The plucky way they faced anything much, much stronger than them with resolve and surety, even if he could taste their fear, had always impressed him.
And they were his siblings, at the core of it all.
He had forgotten that, he thought. In all his hate, he had forgotten that. His Parent had reminded him, and he would like to think that his Parent was proud of him for how quickly he had agreed to be their shield.
His Grace was equal to that of hundreds of his younger siblings. His Parent would have had to sacrifice practically the entire Host of Heaven if he hadn’t agreed.
He hoped his decision made his Parent proud.
He hoped his Parent would remember this, and forget all the havoc he had wreaked, both before humans found fire and during the short time he had been freed.
He hoped his Parent remembered him as a hero of sorts.
It was all he’d really wanted, he figured. His Parent’s approval.
---------------
Amara’s greeting echoed across the field. The world felt like it was holding its breath. Sam gripped the handle of his bright new blade tighter.
He could feel the two huge wells of power brushing each other. Chuck’s bright, burning light with Amara’s chilled, smoky darkness. He wanted to call them two behemoths, but he didn’t think the English language had a word with enough breadth to encapsulate everything that Chuck and Amara held at bay.
Chuck sighed. “Hello to you too, Sibling. It has been a long time. I wish we had met under better circumstances.”
Sam watched Amara stiffen. Mouths with really sharp teeth poked out of the mass of Darkness surrounding them. He could have sworn that he heard howling.
From the way Dean was drawing tense, he heard it too. Maybe it wasn’t all in his head.
He wondered if there was a way for Amara to absorb things like hellhounds. He wondered if there were hounds buried in that Darkness, things just waiting, salivating to tear him and Dean apart.
He hoped his immortality could stand up to chunks taken out of his body. Because those teeth weren’t in any way looking less sharp.
Chuck sighed. “Sibling, I wish we could resolve this peaceably,” he said quietly. “But you have desolated my most beloved Creation. You have torn to pieces my Earth, killed so many of the humans that I created that I worry that they will never recover from the massacre. I cannot forgive this.”
Amara looked taken aback. She cried, “I am your sibling! We were born together! You knew me before you even conceived of any matter, let alone an angel or a human. Why do you punish me for attempting to destroy such a small corner of your creation? You could easily replicate this on a different world, pull a few of these humans aside. You could even revive those who have died! I know you could! And yet you choose them over me, your Sibling from the start of being? You would dare?”
Chuck shook his head. “Sibling,” he sighed. “As the opposite of myself, you will never know the love that I have for this Creation. You will never know the joy of Order and Creation, because your very being is Chaos and Destruction. I do not fault you for this. And when you were happy destroying far away from my creation, I was content. But then you began to pick away at the edges of my creation. Your fingerprints still lie in the cosmos, destroying everything they approach.
“I cannot allow you to destroy more. It is the principle of the thing, as a human would say. If you destroy these humans, then I am not the benevolent creator that I promised them that I would be.”
Chuck shook his head. Sam thought that it was almost like he couldn’t sense the danger surging in the Darkness around them.
Maybe it didn’t bother him. He was God after all.
But man, it bothered him. And from the wary look on Dean’s face and the way he glanced around every time something poked out of the Darkness mass, Dean felt the same.
This fight, when the talking finally stopped, would be epic. One for the eons. Because there was no way, with the way the malice was echoing around them, Amara would back down.
The fight broke when Amara yelled across to Chuck, “Then, if you will defend them so staunchly, defend them in truth!” Sam felt Darkness fly outward, almost like a shrapnel field. Oh, Jesus.
The Darkness ran into some kind of field only a hundred yards out, from what Sam could tell. Apparently Chuck had placed up barriers just in case Amara pulled just that kind of trick. Damn helpful, he thought.
After that, he didn’t do much thinking. The punishing jaws and smoky dogs that jumped out of the smoky Darkness around him kept him too busy to think too much.
He did feel something building below him, though. He wondered, in one of the few idle moments between stabbing a tendril of Darkness aiming for his neck and a dog lunging for his calf, what was happening.
Then he was swept back into the fray.
---------------
YHWH thought that this should be more difficult. They thought, maybe, that remaking the fabric of Their universe should provoke some kind of backlash, something to preserve their Creation.
They figured that They should fix that. Once They were done. For the moment, They needed to complete this as fast as possible, before Their warriors were killed.
Sam Winchester was holding his own, and YHWH was proud of Their child. Sam was truly the best choice for a King that They could have found. Even Dean Winchester did not have the resolve and the force of will that Sam did.
Speaking of Dean Winchester, he appeared to have the same ability. YHWH was glad that They had been able to tell Sam how to anoint Dean to Sam’s side. Dean would be a good Advisor once he accepted that he was not the leader anymore. Once he accepted that Sam was the final say, he would give good advice and be a good mediator for Sam’s occasionally explosive temper.
Their true Children were fighting well against Their Sibling, even little Castiel. Their last Child, Their most beloved in a way. Yes, both were fighting well.
YHWH returned Their focus to the working They had to build. They needed to make certain that there was no opening, no way for Their Sibling to slip free. They had learned Their lesson the first time.
This time, when Their Sibling was locked away, there would be no release.
---------------
Sam dodged the jaws of yet another Darkness dog. (He needed another name for these damn things, but all of his higher brain function was taken up with analyzing his surroundings, making sure that he wasn’t about to be jumped on). Dean, behind him, knifed it and it dissipated with a yelp.
He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. No matter how much power he had, eventually his body was going to give out.
---------------
Dean breathed out hard once he’d knifed the hound. Damn, but this brought back way too many memories that he’d have liked to stay buried.
He spun to intercept another tendril of Darkness. (He was having really awkward flashbacks to some really ill-advised porn choices right now. God, anything but tentacles, for Christ’s sake.)
He didn’t know how whatever power Sam had smacked on him worked, but something was making him want to sneeze and giving him the feeling that the ground was being shuffled around in a really weird way that didn’t feel possible.
As long as it didn’t fall out from under his feet, he was okay with it.
---------------
Castiel could feel his abilities being stretched to the limit. He was constantly beset by the Darkness’ beasts. He hoped that his Parent would finish whatever working They were constructing between the Planes soon, because otherwise Castiel, no matter his level of skill or training, would be overrun.
He flinched at a pained yelp just behind his ear. He turned to find a beast just inches from his neck, its chest speared through by a bright sword. Lucifer threw the beast off of his sword, smiling, and Castiel flinched.
Surely Lucifer wasn’t still angry about being thrown out of his vessel?
Instead of attacking like Castiel had expected, Lucifer sliced at another beast behind him that Castiel had already wounded, but not killed. Castiel flinched away.
What would his Parent do if Lucifer killed him this time? Would his Parent’s power in the sword destroy him completely?
“Come, sibling,” Lucifer said, “Stop flinching. You were fighting well. Fight with me, one last time.” Lucifer turned his back - turned his back - and attacked a mass of Darkness behind him.
Castiel wanted to trust his sibling, but he couldn’t. Not after Lucifer’s possession of his vessel, not after everything Lucifer had done with his hands.
But, just this one more time, he could fight with his sibling.
Castiel turned to guard Lucifer’s back, making sure to keep his awareness half on Lucifer, just in case his sibling decided to take their revenge after all.
He wondered to himself: why did Lucifer sound like they were saying goodbyes?
---------------
YHWH heard Their child bid Castiel goodbye, as much as Lucifer could without giving away the game. They were proud of Their child, even if Lucifer had wreaked so much havoc. Lucifer’s final act more than made up for anything they had done before.
Even if Lucifer had roamed the Earth for a year, Their Sibling’s destruction would have far outstripped them.
But YHWH couldn’t tell Lucifer this. They had no time. They had almost completed the working, and once it was complete Amara would sense it, if they hadn’t already. Once the frame for the new Cage was complete, YHWH would have to act very quickly to keep Their Sibling from escaping into the farthest reaches of Creation and hiding from eons.
The last piece fell into place, and YHWH surrounded Amara with Their power. Their Sibling would not be able to move for a short time.
YHWH could feel Sam, Dean, and Castiel’s confusion, but They had no time to explain. Amara was already struggling, and YHWH did not have, paradoxically, the power to hold them for much longer. Their two powers touching was like two magnets with the same poles being shoved together, and soon even YHWH would be repelled.
YHWH nudged Lucifer, and Their brightest Child willing left their vessel. YHWH noticed Sam and Dean shield their eyes in a reflexive movement before beginning to weave Lucifer’s Grace into the Cage, creating the strongest bonds They had yet created. The power of Order combined with just a hint of Chaos that Lucifer had gained when YHWH placed the Key to Amara’s first Cage within their Grace.
Amara would never leave this Cage, and she seemed to know it.
As he closed the final bar, Amara’s presence vanished from Earth’s Plane, going to the Void. He whispered, in a voice that only his Sibling could hear, “I’m sorry, Sibling,” as they wailed from within the Cage. Rage and fear battled in their voice.
YHWH felt something wet on Their vessel’s cheek. They evaporated it with a thought. Surely, it was only a reaction of the human body They took temporarily. Nothing more.
YHWH pulled away from the Void, doing Their best to ignore Their Sibling’s more and more feeble cries for mercy.
This had to be done. To save Their Creation.
This had to be done.
---------------
Sam watched in awe, barely remembering to shield his eyes, as Chuck pulled - pulled? - Lucifer’s Grace out of his vessel. His vessel collapsed into dust, long dead, but Lucifer shone so brightly that Sam was amazed he wasn’t blind.
Then the brightness vanished and he heard Amara scream one more time before she fell silent.
The Darkness around him disappeared. Completely.
He looked around.
Nothing.
His wounds healed as he watched. (Handy.)
He looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Why it had ended so abruptly.
Chuck was staring into the distance, still glowing a little. Sam figured God was doing Godly things and would come back shortly.
Cas, on the other hand, was looking…shocked was the best word. Completely gobsmacked was another one.
Dean was looking around just as confusedly as him, and Sam watched a painful-looking gash on his ribs heal - just like that.
Their clothes were still in tatters and bloodstained, though. Sam hoped he could fix that. He was pretty sure his junk was a couple inches from hanging out for the world to see.
Sam walked over to Cas, and saw from the corner of his eye that Dean was doing the same.
“Hey, Cas,” he asked quietly, trying not to startle the angel too badly. He already looked like he was one stiff wind from falling over. “Hey, you okay?”
Cas shook himself. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” he whispered. “Lucifer just…”
“What,” Dean said loudly, and Sam glared and was ignored. “Did Luci throw himself on a grenade or what?”
Cas looked over, still shellshocked. Apparently the look shocked Dean into some kind of silence, because he didn’t demand more answers. Thankfully. Sam wondered if Cas even knew the answers, at this point.
Cas whispered, “Lucifer gave himself, his Grace, to become the Cage for Amara. He can never leave the Void. He will always be Amara’s guardian. I don’t…of anything I expected, this was not it.”
“Wait,” Sam said just as quietly, “Lucifer sacrificed himself? To save humanity? No way. How…that’s completely out of character!”
Dean blinked. “Wait, that’s what the wishy-washy feeling was? Chuck remaking reality?”
“Yes,” Cas replied. “Father was creating a new Cage for Amara, one with no lock or key. Amara cannot escape this Cage, and Lucifer’s sacrifice ensured it.” He sighed deeply. “It is done.” He stared at the sky, and then at Chuck, who was still in the center of the field, unmoving. “I must go and alert Heaven of the developments, if they are unaware. I will return in a few days.”
He vanished with the sound of wings.
Sam looked over at Dean, and then glanced at Chuck. Or, well, where Chuck had been. There was nothing there but empty field.
Sam guessed, as King of, well, a lot of things, considering who exactly had given him the power, Chuck was handing things off to him for a while.
Damn, he had a lot of stuff to fix. (He asked Chuck, quietly, to fix the cities and, if possible, revive the people Amara and Dean had killed and wipe the world’s collective memory. If anything should be rewound, this was it.)
(He felt an agreement and then a rush of Chuck’s power through the fabric of the world. Considering it was God’s idea, he figured Billie and the Fates couldn’t be too angry.)
Sam looked back at Dean, who was walking to him. “So, uh, what next?” Dean asked, rubbing the back of his neck, still holding his blade.
Sam shrugged. “Well, first I need to fix Hell. In more ways than one, I guess. I mean, I’m sure Amara did a number on it, but even before that I know you’d agree that it needs major remodeling. You know, less torture except for people who really deserve it. No kids’ souls ending up there. No deals with desperate people, or at least a lower cost or something. Maybe reserve the hounds for only the really evil souls.” He flinched at how torn up Dean had been after the hounds got to him, when he went to Hell. He heard Dean shudder, and figured the sentiment was shared.
“Then I need to come up here and see what I can do about the monster thing. I mean, I can’t wipe them off the world - don’t ask - but maybe I could-”
Dean cut him off with a laugh. “Damn, Sammy, I was kidding, bitch. Right now, you’d better only be planning on teleporting us back to the Bunker. Because, man, I am gonna sleep for a week.” He gathered Sam into his chest and Sam went, laughing. Yeah.
He relaxed into the hug. Yeah, sleep would be good. Relaxing. Letting himself sit back, maybe read something that wasn’t research-related for once.
“Jerk,” he whispered into Dean’s shoulder. He tried to ignore the wetness in his eyes, and the wet patch he swore he could feel growing on his shoulder.
He jumped back to the Bunker after a few seconds, his arms still around Dean. He tucked his head into his brother’s shoulder and breathed in. God, how long had it been since they’d hugged?
Yeah.
Hell could wait.
Part 9