Fire In Your New Shoes, 5/6. NC-17.
Title: Fire In Your New Shoes
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for language, violence and sex.
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur(/Eames)
Disclaimer: Inception characters belong to Christopher Nolan. Supernatural characters belong to Kripke. I own nothing but the actual plot to this, and even that is up to debate. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Inception AU fusion with Supernatural. This is also an AU of Supernatural, diverging from canon in season five and begins in November 2009.
For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 11: Arthur Campbell was born and raised as a hunter, since hunting is the ‘family business’. He ran for his life for years, since all relatives of Mary Campbell were persecuted and killed, so he doesn't know much about Sam and Dean except they are family.
Author's Note: This is the third attempt at filling this prompt. I first snagged it in November 2010, IIRC, and had to scrap that first attempt at it. Then I had to scrap my second attempt in December 2010. I then left this alone for all of 2011. Sorry it took me so long OP! I had to brush up on canon and completely rework the plot AGAIN to make this work. Hopefully it works this time. :)
The scene with Famine contains dialogue lifted directly from the episode, as was part of the scene with Death.
Summary: Arthur Campbell never approved of his Winchester cousins using demonic help to take down other demons. When other hunters are killed while helping them stop Lucifer, he calls on supernatural aid of his own to help them.
Big Bang art located here!
Previous chapters:
One - Red On The Inside
Two - We Raise A Fever
Three - All To See Here
Four - Splitting The Party
Five - Hunting In Concert
The Serenity Valley Convalescent Home in Davenport, Iowa was a stately looking place, with a single car in the parking lot. It was a green 1972 AMC Hornet Wagon with personalized Nevada plates reading SIKN TRD. "Sick and tired," Gabriel explained when he pointed it out. "So we know he's still here."
"Let's do this," Arthur said. He had his Glock at his hip and within easy reach, in case he had to do a fast draw. It was loaded with Yusuf's silver bullets inscribed with Latin phrases; they wouldn't do anything to a horseman, but it would cause a demon or other supernatural creature considerable pain. If he was really lucky, whatever he shot would stay down.
Dean didn't bother with the appearance of being a visitor. He just drew his own pistol and strode through the front door. Rolling his eyes, Sam followed.
The halls were quiet. While that was to be expected in a nursing home, there seemed to be an almost sinister quality to the silence. They found a tall Caucasian man with splashes of slime on his suit standing at the opposite end of the rec room, looking out of the window. "So you're the ones that think you can actually stop Lucifer," he said, finally turning to look at the assemblage. He had a smirk on his face. "Fools."
"I guess this is going down the hard way."
Pestilence's smirk was still firmly in place at Arthur's words. "Did you really think that it was going to happen any other way?"
"A man can hope," Dean replied flippantly.
There was the sound of something rustling behind them, and Arthur could see the nursing staff approaching, as well as some of the residents. Most of the nursing staff had black eyes, and the residents were covered in weeping pustules. "Guys..." he began in warning.
Pestilence simply laughed. "It's been quite a while since we've had the plague. I rather enjoyed that one. I miss those times." His grin was almost manic. "The Crotoan virus will be fun to play with. Initial estimates pin the death rate at 90%, but I'm sure we can do so much better."
"Lucifer would want some humans still left alive," Sam told him.
"Namely us," Dean added. Sam shot him a look; it was Sam that was the true vessel, and he was sure that Lucifer couldn't care less if Michael got his true vessel or not.
"He's not here, is he?" Pestilence sneered, extending his arms outward. "If he wants you so much, he can resurrect you himself."
Arthur spun around, Glock in hand. The demon nurses were too close for his liking, and he started shooting at them, aiming for kneecaps. The nurses were possessed, and he didn't want to kill them if he didn't have to. The elderly residents made awful moaning sounds, as if breathing was painful. He could feel soreness in his neck and armpits but ignored it in favor of continuing to shoot at the demons. "Whatever you're planning on doing, do it quick, will you?"
But Sam was coughing hard enough to fall to his hands and knees. Dean was staggering forward, gun in hand, Castiel barely able to keep him upright. Pestilence was starting to laugh, and Arthur had the distinct impression that his neck was swelling and would explode. He braced himself against the door frame when he started swaying, shooting until the magazine clicked empty. Most of the demons were down for the count, not moving. The host bodies were still breathing, at least, and the shooting had driven away the residents. Arthur dropped the empty magazine and pushed a new one in as he turned to face Pestilence. The man was laughing at Dean's pathetic attempts to continue walking, Castiel's expression one of grim determination as they moved forward inch by tortured inch.
"All right," Gabriel said in a bored tone after Arthur's silver bullets did absolutely nothing to Pestilence. "I'm bored now, and we have other places to be."
With a lazy wave of his hand, Gabriel froze Pestilence in place. Dean managed to stagger forward and cut the ring off of his finger. The horseman roared with pain and anger, but the symptoms of the illnesses were suddenly lessened. Dean didn't need to lean on Castiel so much, Sam stopped coughing and Arthur stopped feeling so dizzy.
"You can't do this to me," Pestilence snarled at Gabriel. "You're nothing."
Gabriel heaved a sigh. "You're really not inspired, are you? No imagination at all. You didn't used to be such a stick in the mud. I thought you'd at least be entertaining tonight." He tapped Pestilence's cheek roughly. "Better luck next time."
"You won't be able to lock him away, whoever you are. Lucifer has plans."
"So do we, bitch," Dean replied tightly. He punched Pestilence in the solar plexus, making him double over in pain.
Without further incident, they left the nursing home.
***
"I think I have a lead on Famine," Bobby told Dean over the phone when he was reporting that they had Pestilence's ring. "Did you want to take care of that tonight?"
Dean looked over the others. They stared back at him, not looking tired or disturbed in the slightest; he supposed having an angel and archangel could do that, even if the angel in question was cut off from his heavenly powers. "Yeah, I think we can do this."
Bobby gave him the rough coordinates to head to, and Sam pulled out a map. "It'll be too far to drive," he commented.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Really, Sam? Sometimes I wonder about that keen mind you supposedly have."
"You're going to teleport us all there?" Sam asked, skeptical.
Gabriel snapped his fingers and they were all in a different town. "Let's just say I wasn't looking forward to another road trip with you boys."
"We could have done this to begin with, then," Sam said, hackles rising.
"I didn't realize driving with you boys would be so tedious." Gabriel brushed invisible lint off of his sleeve and gave a nod of approval at Arthur, who had remained silent the entire time. "So we're here now. Let's go find Famine. Though boys... try to control your appetites."
"And then will come Famine, riding on a black steed," Castiel began, looking around. "He will ride into the land of plenty. And great will be the Horseman's hunger for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air."
"Thanks for that little ball of sunshine," Dean commented, patting Castiel's arm. "We got the creepy-ass message the first time you quoted that at us. Let's go find this guy."
"Did Bobby say where the signs pointed to?" Arthur asked. It didn't seem to be that small a town, more like a small city.
"Nope. Just that it was here."
"We should split up," Arthur suggested. "We'd cover more ground that way. Then once Famine is found, we can call in the others."
"Oh, sure, split the party..." Dean began, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. Whatever. That'll work, but be careful. I'm sure this Horseman will trick the hell out of us."
Gabriel looked around the city with a sigh. "Yeah. Be careful, will you? No point in all of this if Famine manages to kill you. I can't always be saving your collective asses." He shoved his hands into his pockets and managed to look both excited and bored at once. "I think I'll take a walk, look around."
The Winchesters rolled their eyes at him and Arthur was a little confused. He had only met Gabriel recently, and the inconsistent behavior bothered him. He thought of Ariadne, how steadfast she was and always would be. Incorruptible. She was his rock, and he wanted her so much that he ached for her. He wanted to curl up in bed with her, sheets tangled around them, skin slicked with sweat and breaths coming in short gasps after an amazing orgasm. He needed to see her tender smile, knowing that she would always be there. She made the itinerant lifestyle worthwhile.
Damn. If he wasn't careful, he'd have to find a quiet place to jerk off before he could concentrate again. "Gabriel's got a point, at least. I'll call you the moment I find anything." Arthur ran a hand through his hair and picked a direction to start looking for clues to finding Famine.
Sam and Dean split up as well, though Castiel wound up trailing after Dean. Sam found himself wondering if it would have been easier to attack Pestilence if he had been stronger, if he had powers again. It had been simple enough once Gabriel had frozen him in place, after all. If he had his powers, none of them would have gotten ill. He was a hunter, after all. He had to be prepared for anything, and he wasn't. After disappointing Dean so many times already, he owed it to his brother to get his act together. If he practiced taking the demon blood in small doses, this time he could get it right and not be addicted. Moderation was the key. A gulp a day kept the Horsemen away, right? Right.
He froze when he saw movement near a motel. Coming closer, he saw the flash of black eyes before the demon headed inside one of the rooms. Sam followed without a second thought, cell phone still in his pocket.
Castiel split off from Dean after a few blocks. He had slung an arm around Dean's shoulders before that, almost hurt when Dean shot him an inscrutable look. "This is a nice enough little city," he told Dean. "Full of families and places to stay. Good place for children. There are events on weekends in spring and summer, parks and such things for the families to go to, good schools." He gave Dean an encouraging smile.
"Yeah," Dean said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You're talking about having a BBQ and the whole American pie thing, right? Well, not the pie fucking thing, the American dream thing," he clarified after a moment.
"Yes, I am." Castiel paused. "Isn't that a good goal to have? This is why you fight Lucifer and the demons. This is why you battle the creatures of the dark, isn't it? So that others can have their safety on weekends, eating barbecued steaks or hamburgers..." His voice trailed off at Dean's odd expression. "Hamburgers. They are tasty, you said."
"I said a lot of things, Cas," Dean replied, eyes narrowing slightly. "What the hell's gotten into you? What's with all the down home family time talk?"
"Perhaps I should see where those families are," Castiel offered. "There are few of them on the streets at this time."
And now that Castiel pointed it out, Dean could see that it was true. "Okay. Valid point. All the domestication talk was a little weird."
"Duly noted," Castiel said. "I will search for where others might be."
He started walking in a different direction. Dean shook his head and scrubbed at his jaw tiredly. As far as he was concerned, everyone was being even more weird than usual. It was a good thing he was still himself through all this Horseman and Lucifer nonsense.
He could smell the stench of death before he found the bodies. Demons stood over the corpses with a briefcase in hand. That was new, so instead of charging ahead with an exorcism rite in hand, Dean crept closer to observe. The demons extracted something from the bloodied corpses, then started heading toward a Biggerson's restaurant. By the brisk walk, he could guess that someone important was there. He was willing to bet it was Famine, though he didn't know what the briefcase had to do with anything.
Making sure the demons didn't see him, Dean started to follow. He dialed Sam first, and could barely understand Sam's garbled words. "Just get to the Biggerson's," Dean said. "Something big is going down."
There was a gulp that sounded like a swallow. The prior incomprehensibility made sense, and Sam confirmed he would be there. Arthur was panting as if he had just run a few blocks at his fastest sprint, but he agreed that the Biggerson's sounded like the place to start looking for Famine in the city. There was no way to call Castiel or Gabriel, but Dean didn't much care about that. Three hunters should be able to get the job done.
Arthur showed up first, jogging up to Dean's hiding place. He was flushed and looking distracted but otherwise seemed fine. Sam, on the other hand, definitely didn't seem fine. Dean could see the smear of blood on his lips and a splash of it on his jacket, as if he had been in such a rush to drink it that he hadn't cared about the mess. "What the hell, Sammy?" Dean roared. He wanted to throttle his brother.
"I'm stronger now," Sam replied, voice hard. "I'll be able to hurt this one, and you won't have to worry about getting hurt."
"There is something so inherently wrong with that statement..." Dean began, but Sam was already heading toward Biggerson's. "Damn it, Sam..."
Arthur looked distressed and shifted uncomfortably in his crouch behind a car. "Come on, then. He can't do it alone." He looked a little uncomfortable as he stood, but Dean was already heading toward the restaurant.
Inside was an old man in a black suit, a nasal cannula and tubing from an oxygen tank taped to his face. He sat at a table, oblivious to the corpses on the floor. Two demons were attending to him, no effort whatsoever in making their eyes appear normal. Castiel was in a booth, a heaping tray of raw meat in front of him. The angel gave Dean a helpless shrug as he ate. "I like the hamburgers better. They made me very happy."
"Dude," Dean replied, eying him in concern. "How many did you eat?"
Castile swallowed the mouthful of raw meat. "It's in the low hundreds." He grimaced and put a hand over his stomach. "Is that too much?"
"We'll discuss that later," Dean told him as Arthur crashed into the wall, pale and sweaty. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he asked his cousin, who was half turned away from him. Arthur looked like he wanted to grind his hips against the back of a chair.
Sam was standing in front of Famine during the exchange, simply staring at him. The Horseman smiled at him. "Did you like the snack I sent you?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone. "Lucifer sent them to take care of me. All those modern farming techniques make it harder for me to feed, harder to gather strength. But hunger... That is still universal, even in America, where food is plentiful. Consume, consume. The hunger isn't just from the body, it comes from the soul as well. And souls are souls, no matter how I get them."
Dean walked up beside Sam. "Funny, I don't seem to be affected all."
Famine turned his aged visage toward Dean. "Yes. I noticed that. Have you wondered why that is? How you could even walk in my presence?"
Dean shrugged as Sam eyed the demons circling them warily. "Well, I like to think it's because of my strength of character."
Famine shook his head. "I disagree." Famine touched the center of his chest, and Dean stared at the Horseman. "That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex."
"You're so full of crap."
The sly smile Famine shot Dean made his skin crawl in recognition. "Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me!" There was delight in Famine's eyes, and Dean struggled to keep still and not simply throttle the old man. "I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already dead."
"Leave him alone," Sam intoned, eyes flashing with anger at Famine.
The Horseman seemed delighted at the tone he was taking. "You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule. Just the way Satan wanted you to be."
Sam turned toward the demons circling them and shook his head. "No." He held out a hand and black smoke poured from their mouths, heading toward the floor. "I don't want them."
"Then I'll take them," Famine said, reaching out to consume the demon souls. Sam reached out toward Famine as he swallowed down the souls. The Horseman laughed. "Your powers won't work on me, Sam. It's useless to fight it."
"I can't affect you, but I can affect them." Sam's voice was grim and he began to concentrate, pulling the demonic souls out of Famine. The Horseman began to scream, then suddenly the souls exploded out of him. Blood was running from Sam's nose as the demonic souls were exorcised, and Famine slumped forward, eyes glassy.
Arthur pushed away from his crouched position, red-faced and sweaty. Castiel stood and pushed the tray of meat away, frowning at the Winchesters. It didn't take any effort to get Famine's ring now, and Dean looked at Sam with a stony expression.
The door to the restaurant banged open and Gabriel walked in with a Mountain Dew in hand. "Oh, hey. Did I miss anything?"
He easily ducked the knife that Dean threw at him.
***
Bundled in Bobby's panic room, Sam was screaming to be let out. Dean walked out of the house, not able to listen to whatever Castiel was trying to say. Arthur let him go, walking up to Ariadne and gathering her up into his arms. "See? I'm back, just like I promised," he murmured into her hair. "I was thinking of you."
Ariadne smiled. "Flatterer," she teased, holding him tightly.
Gabriel entered the kitchen with a frown on his face and a moment later returned to Arthur and Ariadne's side. "Where's Eames?"
"He left," Ariadne murmured, pulling back slightly. "I upset him, and he vanished. I've been going over my notes since then and trying to work on the script."
"I've noticed. It's a good written Enochian," he told her with a nod. "How's your spoken skill?"
"Working on it?" she asked, making a face.
Lips compressed tightly in unhappiness, Gabriel leveled her with a stare. After a moment, he asked her "Where is Camael?" in Enochian.
Ariadne frowned as she replied "Who is Camael?" in Enochian. "I don't know what you mean."
"You have an accent," Gabriel declared. "It can't be helped, but it will work for the spells. Keep working at it, and I'll go look for our trickster friend."
"If you see him," Ariadne began, hesitantly reaching out to grab Gabriel's sleeve before he left the house. "Please tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him."
Gabriel's eyebrows rose alarmingly high. "There's definitely a story there."
"It's not mine to tell," she insisted. She had every intention of telling Arthur what happened, but she wasn't about to tell the archangel when he wasn't even involved.
"Huh. I'll keep it in mind if I find him. He managed to keep himself hidden from me for a few centuries, so don't hold your breath."
He vanished as well, and Ariadne held onto Arthur tightly, regret heavy in her heart. "You're telling me, right?" Arthur asked. She nodded, face still pressed against his chest. "Okay. Let's go to our room upstairs. It'll give us a little privacy."
"And I can try the privacy spell, too. So no one can listen."
Arthur managed to get a bit of a leer into his smile at her. "Useful."
That got her to laugh a little before they went into the room Bobby was letting them use. She sang the spell, eyes closed to better remember the cadence of it. Ariadne could feel the pull of the magic beneath her skin, then the entire thing snapping into place once she was done. She staggered a bit, feeling dizzy. Arthur had his arms around her in an instant, steadying her. "I've got you," he murmured, voice low and intimate. "I've got you, you're okay."
Ariadne smiled up at him. "I know." She put her hand over his heart in a possessive gesture.
"So what is it that got Eames so upset today? I don't think we've ever done anything to get him angry. Usually it's the other way around."
Ariadne sighed and pulled away to sit on the bed. Concerned, Arthur sat beside her. "I did a lot of reading after talking with Eames," she began slowly. "I didn't mean to upset him, but you know how I can get with the talking before I think. He..."
Arthur caught the hesitancy and assumed the worst. "What? Did he mess with you?"
She shook her head and gave him a faint, pained smile. "He's in love with us, Arthur. That's why he came to you looking like me years ago. That's why he's protecting us. It's not because he feels guilty about things he's done. He's done all those things because he loves us."
Brows knit into an almost thunderous expression, Arthur shook his head. "That's absurd. He's just yanking your chain."
"You didn't see him, Arthur," Ariadne protested. "It shook him up that I could guess that. He didn't want me to know. He's in love with both of us. That's why he's helping us. That's why he calls us his, don't you get it? That's why he calls us his family."
Arthur shook his head, not wanting to believe that was true. "It doesn't have to mean that."
"Doesn't it?" He blew out a breath and stood up to pace. Ariadne watched him, knowing he needed the movement to help him think. "I wanted you to know, because you're always so angry with him."
"I can't trust him. When he's bored with us, where will we be? Huh? When he withdraws that protection of his, how many creatures are going to be on our backs ready to kill us? I can't trust him. I can't."
Ariadne couldn't disagree with his logic. There was too much bad blood in the past and too much suspicion on Arthur's part. "What did he say to you, when he looked like me? You never talk about it."
"It wasn't you, it doesn't matter."
Ariadne had always let it slide before, but now she pressed him. "What did he say?"
"I thought it was you, but it wasn't," Arthur protested. "It doesn't matter. He was just fucking with me."
"What did she say?" Ariadne demanded. "Tell me. I need to know."
"You... I thought it was you. He said that he was scared to screw it up, to change how things were, but he wanted me." Arthur shook his head and paced the length of the room again. "He was fucking with me."
"I think he was being as honest as he knew how to be," Ariadne whispered, suddenly sure that it was absolutely true. "Because that was what I felt at the time, too. I didn't want to screw things up and I didn't want it to change how we were with each other. I still want you that badly," she said with a crooked smile. "And I'm still sometimes waiting for that horrible thing to happen that you're so scared of. But it hasn't happened yet. I think he took my words as his own because he knew you'd never believe him if he told you himself."
"That's ridiculous."
"What's more ridiculous: believing in the impossible or refusing to believe in what's right in front of you?"
Arthur turned away from her and paced the room in jerky steps. Now that she pointed it out, it was impossible to unsee it. It was impossible not to comb through his memories of Coyote and see them in that light, see the twinkling and the teasing as the restrained overtures of something possibly romantic. Arthur felt almost sick to his gut; those pained looks on his face weren't acting, then, but genuine hurts he had inflicted so carelessly. He was supposed to protect others, supposed to keep the dark things away from the innocent. Coyote might not be innocent, but he wasn't one of the nastiest things in the dark.
"Hey..." Ariadne began, getting up and stopping him from pacing. "I didn't tell you to make you feel bad. I told you so that you'd understand why he's doing this and why I wanted to apologize, because I didn't mean to hurt him but I did. He's not trying to trip you up. You don't have to be so on edge around him all the time. I'm not saying you should automatically trust everything he says like the gospel, but you don't have to doubt him so hard. It's going to give you an ulcer."
He gave her a wry smile. "I'll probably still get one."
"Bad roadhouse food will do that to you."
Arthur laughed as she hoped he would, and enveloped her in his arms. "I love you so much, Ariadne," he whispered against the crown of her head. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."
"Well, I'm never leaving you, so you're not going to find out."
Neither mentioned the rather high mortality rate for hunters. They were both only too aware of that statistic.
***
***
To Chapter Six - Getting Out Alive
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for language, violence and sex.
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur(/Eames)
Disclaimer: Inception characters belong to Christopher Nolan. Supernatural characters belong to Kripke. I own nothing but the actual plot to this, and even that is up to debate. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Inception AU fusion with Supernatural. This is also an AU of Supernatural, diverging from canon in season five and begins in November 2009.
For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 11: Arthur Campbell was born and raised as a hunter, since hunting is the ‘family business’. He ran for his life for years, since all relatives of Mary Campbell were persecuted and killed, so he doesn't know much about Sam and Dean except they are family.
Author's Note: This is the third attempt at filling this prompt. I first snagged it in November 2010, IIRC, and had to scrap that first attempt at it. Then I had to scrap my second attempt in December 2010. I then left this alone for all of 2011. Sorry it took me so long OP! I had to brush up on canon and completely rework the plot AGAIN to make this work. Hopefully it works this time. :)
The scene with Famine contains dialogue lifted directly from the episode, as was part of the scene with Death.
Summary: Arthur Campbell never approved of his Winchester cousins using demonic help to take down other demons. When other hunters are killed while helping them stop Lucifer, he calls on supernatural aid of his own to help them.
Big Bang art located here!
Previous chapters:
One - Red On The Inside
Two - We Raise A Fever
Three - All To See Here
Four - Splitting The Party
Five - Hunting In Concert
The Serenity Valley Convalescent Home in Davenport, Iowa was a stately looking place, with a single car in the parking lot. It was a green 1972 AMC Hornet Wagon with personalized Nevada plates reading SIKN TRD. "Sick and tired," Gabriel explained when he pointed it out. "So we know he's still here."
"Let's do this," Arthur said. He had his Glock at his hip and within easy reach, in case he had to do a fast draw. It was loaded with Yusuf's silver bullets inscribed with Latin phrases; they wouldn't do anything to a horseman, but it would cause a demon or other supernatural creature considerable pain. If he was really lucky, whatever he shot would stay down.
Dean didn't bother with the appearance of being a visitor. He just drew his own pistol and strode through the front door. Rolling his eyes, Sam followed.
The halls were quiet. While that was to be expected in a nursing home, there seemed to be an almost sinister quality to the silence. They found a tall Caucasian man with splashes of slime on his suit standing at the opposite end of the rec room, looking out of the window. "So you're the ones that think you can actually stop Lucifer," he said, finally turning to look at the assemblage. He had a smirk on his face. "Fools."
"I guess this is going down the hard way."
Pestilence's smirk was still firmly in place at Arthur's words. "Did you really think that it was going to happen any other way?"
"A man can hope," Dean replied flippantly.
There was the sound of something rustling behind them, and Arthur could see the nursing staff approaching, as well as some of the residents. Most of the nursing staff had black eyes, and the residents were covered in weeping pustules. "Guys..." he began in warning.
Pestilence simply laughed. "It's been quite a while since we've had the plague. I rather enjoyed that one. I miss those times." His grin was almost manic. "The Crotoan virus will be fun to play with. Initial estimates pin the death rate at 90%, but I'm sure we can do so much better."
"Lucifer would want some humans still left alive," Sam told him.
"Namely us," Dean added. Sam shot him a look; it was Sam that was the true vessel, and he was sure that Lucifer couldn't care less if Michael got his true vessel or not.
"He's not here, is he?" Pestilence sneered, extending his arms outward. "If he wants you so much, he can resurrect you himself."
Arthur spun around, Glock in hand. The demon nurses were too close for his liking, and he started shooting at them, aiming for kneecaps. The nurses were possessed, and he didn't want to kill them if he didn't have to. The elderly residents made awful moaning sounds, as if breathing was painful. He could feel soreness in his neck and armpits but ignored it in favor of continuing to shoot at the demons. "Whatever you're planning on doing, do it quick, will you?"
But Sam was coughing hard enough to fall to his hands and knees. Dean was staggering forward, gun in hand, Castiel barely able to keep him upright. Pestilence was starting to laugh, and Arthur had the distinct impression that his neck was swelling and would explode. He braced himself against the door frame when he started swaying, shooting until the magazine clicked empty. Most of the demons were down for the count, not moving. The host bodies were still breathing, at least, and the shooting had driven away the residents. Arthur dropped the empty magazine and pushed a new one in as he turned to face Pestilence. The man was laughing at Dean's pathetic attempts to continue walking, Castiel's expression one of grim determination as they moved forward inch by tortured inch.
"All right," Gabriel said in a bored tone after Arthur's silver bullets did absolutely nothing to Pestilence. "I'm bored now, and we have other places to be."
With a lazy wave of his hand, Gabriel froze Pestilence in place. Dean managed to stagger forward and cut the ring off of his finger. The horseman roared with pain and anger, but the symptoms of the illnesses were suddenly lessened. Dean didn't need to lean on Castiel so much, Sam stopped coughing and Arthur stopped feeling so dizzy.
"You can't do this to me," Pestilence snarled at Gabriel. "You're nothing."
Gabriel heaved a sigh. "You're really not inspired, are you? No imagination at all. You didn't used to be such a stick in the mud. I thought you'd at least be entertaining tonight." He tapped Pestilence's cheek roughly. "Better luck next time."
"You won't be able to lock him away, whoever you are. Lucifer has plans."
"So do we, bitch," Dean replied tightly. He punched Pestilence in the solar plexus, making him double over in pain.
Without further incident, they left the nursing home.
***
"I think I have a lead on Famine," Bobby told Dean over the phone when he was reporting that they had Pestilence's ring. "Did you want to take care of that tonight?"
Dean looked over the others. They stared back at him, not looking tired or disturbed in the slightest; he supposed having an angel and archangel could do that, even if the angel in question was cut off from his heavenly powers. "Yeah, I think we can do this."
Bobby gave him the rough coordinates to head to, and Sam pulled out a map. "It'll be too far to drive," he commented.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Really, Sam? Sometimes I wonder about that keen mind you supposedly have."
"You're going to teleport us all there?" Sam asked, skeptical.
Gabriel snapped his fingers and they were all in a different town. "Let's just say I wasn't looking forward to another road trip with you boys."
"We could have done this to begin with, then," Sam said, hackles rising.
"I didn't realize driving with you boys would be so tedious." Gabriel brushed invisible lint off of his sleeve and gave a nod of approval at Arthur, who had remained silent the entire time. "So we're here now. Let's go find Famine. Though boys... try to control your appetites."
"And then will come Famine, riding on a black steed," Castiel began, looking around. "He will ride into the land of plenty. And great will be the Horseman's hunger for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air."
"Thanks for that little ball of sunshine," Dean commented, patting Castiel's arm. "We got the creepy-ass message the first time you quoted that at us. Let's go find this guy."
"Did Bobby say where the signs pointed to?" Arthur asked. It didn't seem to be that small a town, more like a small city.
"Nope. Just that it was here."
"We should split up," Arthur suggested. "We'd cover more ground that way. Then once Famine is found, we can call in the others."
"Oh, sure, split the party..." Dean began, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. Whatever. That'll work, but be careful. I'm sure this Horseman will trick the hell out of us."
Gabriel looked around the city with a sigh. "Yeah. Be careful, will you? No point in all of this if Famine manages to kill you. I can't always be saving your collective asses." He shoved his hands into his pockets and managed to look both excited and bored at once. "I think I'll take a walk, look around."
The Winchesters rolled their eyes at him and Arthur was a little confused. He had only met Gabriel recently, and the inconsistent behavior bothered him. He thought of Ariadne, how steadfast she was and always would be. Incorruptible. She was his rock, and he wanted her so much that he ached for her. He wanted to curl up in bed with her, sheets tangled around them, skin slicked with sweat and breaths coming in short gasps after an amazing orgasm. He needed to see her tender smile, knowing that she would always be there. She made the itinerant lifestyle worthwhile.
Damn. If he wasn't careful, he'd have to find a quiet place to jerk off before he could concentrate again. "Gabriel's got a point, at least. I'll call you the moment I find anything." Arthur ran a hand through his hair and picked a direction to start looking for clues to finding Famine.
Sam and Dean split up as well, though Castiel wound up trailing after Dean. Sam found himself wondering if it would have been easier to attack Pestilence if he had been stronger, if he had powers again. It had been simple enough once Gabriel had frozen him in place, after all. If he had his powers, none of them would have gotten ill. He was a hunter, after all. He had to be prepared for anything, and he wasn't. After disappointing Dean so many times already, he owed it to his brother to get his act together. If he practiced taking the demon blood in small doses, this time he could get it right and not be addicted. Moderation was the key. A gulp a day kept the Horsemen away, right? Right.
He froze when he saw movement near a motel. Coming closer, he saw the flash of black eyes before the demon headed inside one of the rooms. Sam followed without a second thought, cell phone still in his pocket.
Castiel split off from Dean after a few blocks. He had slung an arm around Dean's shoulders before that, almost hurt when Dean shot him an inscrutable look. "This is a nice enough little city," he told Dean. "Full of families and places to stay. Good place for children. There are events on weekends in spring and summer, parks and such things for the families to go to, good schools." He gave Dean an encouraging smile.
"Yeah," Dean said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You're talking about having a BBQ and the whole American pie thing, right? Well, not the pie fucking thing, the American dream thing," he clarified after a moment.
"Yes, I am." Castiel paused. "Isn't that a good goal to have? This is why you fight Lucifer and the demons. This is why you battle the creatures of the dark, isn't it? So that others can have their safety on weekends, eating barbecued steaks or hamburgers..." His voice trailed off at Dean's odd expression. "Hamburgers. They are tasty, you said."
"I said a lot of things, Cas," Dean replied, eyes narrowing slightly. "What the hell's gotten into you? What's with all the down home family time talk?"
"Perhaps I should see where those families are," Castiel offered. "There are few of them on the streets at this time."
And now that Castiel pointed it out, Dean could see that it was true. "Okay. Valid point. All the domestication talk was a little weird."
"Duly noted," Castiel said. "I will search for where others might be."
He started walking in a different direction. Dean shook his head and scrubbed at his jaw tiredly. As far as he was concerned, everyone was being even more weird than usual. It was a good thing he was still himself through all this Horseman and Lucifer nonsense.
He could smell the stench of death before he found the bodies. Demons stood over the corpses with a briefcase in hand. That was new, so instead of charging ahead with an exorcism rite in hand, Dean crept closer to observe. The demons extracted something from the bloodied corpses, then started heading toward a Biggerson's restaurant. By the brisk walk, he could guess that someone important was there. He was willing to bet it was Famine, though he didn't know what the briefcase had to do with anything.
Making sure the demons didn't see him, Dean started to follow. He dialed Sam first, and could barely understand Sam's garbled words. "Just get to the Biggerson's," Dean said. "Something big is going down."
There was a gulp that sounded like a swallow. The prior incomprehensibility made sense, and Sam confirmed he would be there. Arthur was panting as if he had just run a few blocks at his fastest sprint, but he agreed that the Biggerson's sounded like the place to start looking for Famine in the city. There was no way to call Castiel or Gabriel, but Dean didn't much care about that. Three hunters should be able to get the job done.
Arthur showed up first, jogging up to Dean's hiding place. He was flushed and looking distracted but otherwise seemed fine. Sam, on the other hand, definitely didn't seem fine. Dean could see the smear of blood on his lips and a splash of it on his jacket, as if he had been in such a rush to drink it that he hadn't cared about the mess. "What the hell, Sammy?" Dean roared. He wanted to throttle his brother.
"I'm stronger now," Sam replied, voice hard. "I'll be able to hurt this one, and you won't have to worry about getting hurt."
"There is something so inherently wrong with that statement..." Dean began, but Sam was already heading toward Biggerson's. "Damn it, Sam..."
Arthur looked distressed and shifted uncomfortably in his crouch behind a car. "Come on, then. He can't do it alone." He looked a little uncomfortable as he stood, but Dean was already heading toward the restaurant.
Inside was an old man in a black suit, a nasal cannula and tubing from an oxygen tank taped to his face. He sat at a table, oblivious to the corpses on the floor. Two demons were attending to him, no effort whatsoever in making their eyes appear normal. Castiel was in a booth, a heaping tray of raw meat in front of him. The angel gave Dean a helpless shrug as he ate. "I like the hamburgers better. They made me very happy."
"Dude," Dean replied, eying him in concern. "How many did you eat?"
Castile swallowed the mouthful of raw meat. "It's in the low hundreds." He grimaced and put a hand over his stomach. "Is that too much?"
"We'll discuss that later," Dean told him as Arthur crashed into the wall, pale and sweaty. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he asked his cousin, who was half turned away from him. Arthur looked like he wanted to grind his hips against the back of a chair.
Sam was standing in front of Famine during the exchange, simply staring at him. The Horseman smiled at him. "Did you like the snack I sent you?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone. "Lucifer sent them to take care of me. All those modern farming techniques make it harder for me to feed, harder to gather strength. But hunger... That is still universal, even in America, where food is plentiful. Consume, consume. The hunger isn't just from the body, it comes from the soul as well. And souls are souls, no matter how I get them."
Dean walked up beside Sam. "Funny, I don't seem to be affected all."
Famine turned his aged visage toward Dean. "Yes. I noticed that. Have you wondered why that is? How you could even walk in my presence?"
Dean shrugged as Sam eyed the demons circling them warily. "Well, I like to think it's because of my strength of character."
Famine shook his head. "I disagree." Famine touched the center of his chest, and Dean stared at the Horseman. "That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex."
"You're so full of crap."
The sly smile Famine shot Dean made his skin crawl in recognition. "Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me!" There was delight in Famine's eyes, and Dean struggled to keep still and not simply throttle the old man. "I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already dead."
"Leave him alone," Sam intoned, eyes flashing with anger at Famine.
The Horseman seemed delighted at the tone he was taking. "You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule. Just the way Satan wanted you to be."
Sam turned toward the demons circling them and shook his head. "No." He held out a hand and black smoke poured from their mouths, heading toward the floor. "I don't want them."
"Then I'll take them," Famine said, reaching out to consume the demon souls. Sam reached out toward Famine as he swallowed down the souls. The Horseman laughed. "Your powers won't work on me, Sam. It's useless to fight it."
"I can't affect you, but I can affect them." Sam's voice was grim and he began to concentrate, pulling the demonic souls out of Famine. The Horseman began to scream, then suddenly the souls exploded out of him. Blood was running from Sam's nose as the demonic souls were exorcised, and Famine slumped forward, eyes glassy.
Arthur pushed away from his crouched position, red-faced and sweaty. Castiel stood and pushed the tray of meat away, frowning at the Winchesters. It didn't take any effort to get Famine's ring now, and Dean looked at Sam with a stony expression.
The door to the restaurant banged open and Gabriel walked in with a Mountain Dew in hand. "Oh, hey. Did I miss anything?"
He easily ducked the knife that Dean threw at him.
***
Bundled in Bobby's panic room, Sam was screaming to be let out. Dean walked out of the house, not able to listen to whatever Castiel was trying to say. Arthur let him go, walking up to Ariadne and gathering her up into his arms. "See? I'm back, just like I promised," he murmured into her hair. "I was thinking of you."
Ariadne smiled. "Flatterer," she teased, holding him tightly.
Gabriel entered the kitchen with a frown on his face and a moment later returned to Arthur and Ariadne's side. "Where's Eames?"
"He left," Ariadne murmured, pulling back slightly. "I upset him, and he vanished. I've been going over my notes since then and trying to work on the script."
"I've noticed. It's a good written Enochian," he told her with a nod. "How's your spoken skill?"
"Working on it?" she asked, making a face.
Lips compressed tightly in unhappiness, Gabriel leveled her with a stare. After a moment, he asked her "Where is Camael?" in Enochian.
Ariadne frowned as she replied "Who is Camael?" in Enochian. "I don't know what you mean."
"You have an accent," Gabriel declared. "It can't be helped, but it will work for the spells. Keep working at it, and I'll go look for our trickster friend."
"If you see him," Ariadne began, hesitantly reaching out to grab Gabriel's sleeve before he left the house. "Please tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him."
Gabriel's eyebrows rose alarmingly high. "There's definitely a story there."
"It's not mine to tell," she insisted. She had every intention of telling Arthur what happened, but she wasn't about to tell the archangel when he wasn't even involved.
"Huh. I'll keep it in mind if I find him. He managed to keep himself hidden from me for a few centuries, so don't hold your breath."
He vanished as well, and Ariadne held onto Arthur tightly, regret heavy in her heart. "You're telling me, right?" Arthur asked. She nodded, face still pressed against his chest. "Okay. Let's go to our room upstairs. It'll give us a little privacy."
"And I can try the privacy spell, too. So no one can listen."
Arthur managed to get a bit of a leer into his smile at her. "Useful."
That got her to laugh a little before they went into the room Bobby was letting them use. She sang the spell, eyes closed to better remember the cadence of it. Ariadne could feel the pull of the magic beneath her skin, then the entire thing snapping into place once she was done. She staggered a bit, feeling dizzy. Arthur had his arms around her in an instant, steadying her. "I've got you," he murmured, voice low and intimate. "I've got you, you're okay."
Ariadne smiled up at him. "I know." She put her hand over his heart in a possessive gesture.
"So what is it that got Eames so upset today? I don't think we've ever done anything to get him angry. Usually it's the other way around."
Ariadne sighed and pulled away to sit on the bed. Concerned, Arthur sat beside her. "I did a lot of reading after talking with Eames," she began slowly. "I didn't mean to upset him, but you know how I can get with the talking before I think. He..."
Arthur caught the hesitancy and assumed the worst. "What? Did he mess with you?"
She shook her head and gave him a faint, pained smile. "He's in love with us, Arthur. That's why he came to you looking like me years ago. That's why he's protecting us. It's not because he feels guilty about things he's done. He's done all those things because he loves us."
Brows knit into an almost thunderous expression, Arthur shook his head. "That's absurd. He's just yanking your chain."
"You didn't see him, Arthur," Ariadne protested. "It shook him up that I could guess that. He didn't want me to know. He's in love with both of us. That's why he's helping us. That's why he calls us his, don't you get it? That's why he calls us his family."
Arthur shook his head, not wanting to believe that was true. "It doesn't have to mean that."
"Doesn't it?" He blew out a breath and stood up to pace. Ariadne watched him, knowing he needed the movement to help him think. "I wanted you to know, because you're always so angry with him."
"I can't trust him. When he's bored with us, where will we be? Huh? When he withdraws that protection of his, how many creatures are going to be on our backs ready to kill us? I can't trust him. I can't."
Ariadne couldn't disagree with his logic. There was too much bad blood in the past and too much suspicion on Arthur's part. "What did he say to you, when he looked like me? You never talk about it."
"It wasn't you, it doesn't matter."
Ariadne had always let it slide before, but now she pressed him. "What did he say?"
"I thought it was you, but it wasn't," Arthur protested. "It doesn't matter. He was just fucking with me."
"What did she say?" Ariadne demanded. "Tell me. I need to know."
"You... I thought it was you. He said that he was scared to screw it up, to change how things were, but he wanted me." Arthur shook his head and paced the length of the room again. "He was fucking with me."
"I think he was being as honest as he knew how to be," Ariadne whispered, suddenly sure that it was absolutely true. "Because that was what I felt at the time, too. I didn't want to screw things up and I didn't want it to change how we were with each other. I still want you that badly," she said with a crooked smile. "And I'm still sometimes waiting for that horrible thing to happen that you're so scared of. But it hasn't happened yet. I think he took my words as his own because he knew you'd never believe him if he told you himself."
"That's ridiculous."
"What's more ridiculous: believing in the impossible or refusing to believe in what's right in front of you?"
Arthur turned away from her and paced the room in jerky steps. Now that she pointed it out, it was impossible to unsee it. It was impossible not to comb through his memories of Coyote and see them in that light, see the twinkling and the teasing as the restrained overtures of something possibly romantic. Arthur felt almost sick to his gut; those pained looks on his face weren't acting, then, but genuine hurts he had inflicted so carelessly. He was supposed to protect others, supposed to keep the dark things away from the innocent. Coyote might not be innocent, but he wasn't one of the nastiest things in the dark.
"Hey..." Ariadne began, getting up and stopping him from pacing. "I didn't tell you to make you feel bad. I told you so that you'd understand why he's doing this and why I wanted to apologize, because I didn't mean to hurt him but I did. He's not trying to trip you up. You don't have to be so on edge around him all the time. I'm not saying you should automatically trust everything he says like the gospel, but you don't have to doubt him so hard. It's going to give you an ulcer."
He gave her a wry smile. "I'll probably still get one."
"Bad roadhouse food will do that to you."
Arthur laughed as she hoped he would, and enveloped her in his arms. "I love you so much, Ariadne," he whispered against the crown of her head. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."
"Well, I'm never leaving you, so you're not going to find out."
Neither mentioned the rather high mortality rate for hunters. They were both only too aware of that statistic.
***
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To Chapter Six - Getting Out Alive