Fic: Apocalypse . . . When?
“Sam, we gotta go!”
“We can’t. He’s coming.”
Sam and Dean stared at the incandescent light erupting from the floor, barely contained by the seal traced in Lilith’s blood. Sam clutched at Dean’s arm, remorse/guilt/regret pouring off him in nearly palpable waves. Dean clung right back, the reunion with his brother bittersweet with the apology hanging between them and fetid demon blood opening gates in front of them.
Ruby’s blood slicked the knife in Dean’s hand, and the only thing he regretted about that was that he didn’t kill the bitch months ago. He knew she’d had her own agenda, knew she’d been playing Sam, but he hadn’t done enough to stop it. Sam’s mistake was partially Dean’s too; he had his own share of the blame in this whole cock-up.
Planting his feet firmly, he tightened his grip on the knife, unsure whether it would do any good but determined to try anyway. Damn Zachariah anyway - how the hell was Dean supposed to stop Lucifer when the freaking angels wouldn’t tell him a God-damned thing?
A rushing roar of white noise echoed off the stone walls of the former convent as the Winchesters huddled together instinctively, seeking the only comfort they could, here together at the end of the world. The pillar of light built to a blinding crescendo, and the brothers had to look away, shielding their dazzled eyes. An earth-shaking rumble as the floor cracked wider, and a shape started to take form inside the beam, rising from the depths.
The light and noise coalesced into a single focal point, then with a pop . . . everything stopped.
For a long moment there was silence, the world pausing with bated breath. Then a deep chuckle, lush with satisfaction resonated around the room. With a creeping dread Sam and Dean looked over at the seal to see what had emerged from the cage.
Sam frowned, shook his head, looked again. Dean tilted his head one way, then the other, then rubbed his eyes just to make sure. They glanced at each other to double check they were actually seeing the same thing, then back at the creature unleashed. Finally Dean muttered, “What the hell?”
Lucifer definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. Maybe a huge muscle-bound red-skinned guy with horns, razor teeth and glowing eyes. That stupid “green room” the angels stuck him in had lots of paintings of devils and Lucifer, most depicting a creature with either lizard or monstrous qualities. A couple showed a shadowed humanoid, clearly a fallen angel, battling it out with Michael the Archangel.
But the thing standing on the seal looked like a Ken doll. Fair skin, blue eyes, perfect blond hair . . .
. . . . and stood about seven inches tall.
The figure spread his arms out wide and boomed in an impressively deep voice, “I am Lucifer, Lord of Hell! I have been unleashed from my prison to wage war on Heaven and Earth! Bow before me and despair!”
Sam squinted at the little person, puzzled. “This is the big, bad, bringer of all things evil and nasty?”
“I guess.” Dean leaned forward a bit, trying to get a better look from across the room.
“I thought he’d be . . . bigger.”
“Well, it explains a lot,” Dean shrugged with a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s definitely compensating for something.”
Lucifer scowled at him. “Insolent mortal! You are less than the dust beneath my feet!”
Sam chuffed a laugh. “Lot of attitude for such a little guy.”
“You know what they say - phenomenal cosmic powers, itty bitty living space.”
“I am Evil incarnate,” Lucifer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. “Show some respect for the ruler of all demons.”
Dean thought for a second, then shook his head. “Nah.” Pulling his Colt from the waistband of his jeans, he took aim and fired. Lucifer had time for a single squeak before he splattered over the floor.
Sam raised his eyebrows curiously. “Huh.” He walked over to inspect the glistening stain. “It’s still twitching.” With one size 14 shoe he stomped on the little bits and ground them firmly into the concrete. Nodding in satisfaction, he scraped the bottom of his shoe on Lilith’s leg.
He looked over at Dean with a cautiously hopeful light in his eyes. “Now what?”
Dean glanced around at all the blood and dead bodies. “I say we torch the place, salt the ashes, then go find the nearest bar. I’m starving.”
“What about --?” Sam gestured between them, a combination of guilt and dread on his face.
Dean shrugged as he gave Ruby’s corpse a kick. “I still owe you one holy hell of a beat down, but that can wait until after the hangovers.” He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Brother, we just stopped the Apocalypse and kicked some major demon ass. Let’s celebrate a bit.”
“Yeah, okay.” Sam smiled as they made their way towards the door, looking for things to burn. “How’d you get here so fast, anyway?”
“Chuck told us where, then Cas beamed me over with his magic fingers.” Dean wiggled his own fingers. “He stayed back to take on an archangel, and probably dickless Zach too.”
“Speaking of compensating for something,” Sam muttered darkly, and Dean chuckled as he lit the first curtains on fire. Soon they stood outside the convent, watching the flames go higher and higher, lighting the night sky.
Leaning back on the trunk of Ruby’s car, Sam nudged Dean. “Wonder if Chuck saw it going down this way.”
“Slutty demons, pimping bastard angels, blood-drinking psychic boy, and Devilspawn Barbie with Action Figure Lucifer.” Dean shook his head. “Someone’s got a weird sense of humor.”
Sam gave him a crooked smile. “Think we’re done with all this end of the world apocalypse shit now?”
“God, I hope so. Demons and angels can just duke it out themselves from now on, and leave us out of it. I just want to get back to the family business, y’know, saving people, hunting things.” Crossing over to the driver’s side door, he glanced around the isolated area. “I want pie. You see a place on the way?”
“There’s a town a few miles back that way.” Sam pointed, then jumped when he heard a sudden banging from the trunk. Dean arched an eyebrow, and Sam winced. “Um, we might have to wait a bit on that pie . . .”
“We can’t. He’s coming.”
Sam and Dean stared at the incandescent light erupting from the floor, barely contained by the seal traced in Lilith’s blood. Sam clutched at Dean’s arm, remorse/guilt/regret pouring off him in nearly palpable waves. Dean clung right back, the reunion with his brother bittersweet with the apology hanging between them and fetid demon blood opening gates in front of them.
Ruby’s blood slicked the knife in Dean’s hand, and the only thing he regretted about that was that he didn’t kill the bitch months ago. He knew she’d had her own agenda, knew she’d been playing Sam, but he hadn’t done enough to stop it. Sam’s mistake was partially Dean’s too; he had his own share of the blame in this whole cock-up.
Planting his feet firmly, he tightened his grip on the knife, unsure whether it would do any good but determined to try anyway. Damn Zachariah anyway - how the hell was Dean supposed to stop Lucifer when the freaking angels wouldn’t tell him a God-damned thing?
A rushing roar of white noise echoed off the stone walls of the former convent as the Winchesters huddled together instinctively, seeking the only comfort they could, here together at the end of the world. The pillar of light built to a blinding crescendo, and the brothers had to look away, shielding their dazzled eyes. An earth-shaking rumble as the floor cracked wider, and a shape started to take form inside the beam, rising from the depths.
The light and noise coalesced into a single focal point, then with a pop . . . everything stopped.
For a long moment there was silence, the world pausing with bated breath. Then a deep chuckle, lush with satisfaction resonated around the room. With a creeping dread Sam and Dean looked over at the seal to see what had emerged from the cage.
Sam frowned, shook his head, looked again. Dean tilted his head one way, then the other, then rubbed his eyes just to make sure. They glanced at each other to double check they were actually seeing the same thing, then back at the creature unleashed. Finally Dean muttered, “What the hell?”
Lucifer definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. Maybe a huge muscle-bound red-skinned guy with horns, razor teeth and glowing eyes. That stupid “green room” the angels stuck him in had lots of paintings of devils and Lucifer, most depicting a creature with either lizard or monstrous qualities. A couple showed a shadowed humanoid, clearly a fallen angel, battling it out with Michael the Archangel.
But the thing standing on the seal looked like a Ken doll. Fair skin, blue eyes, perfect blond hair . . .
. . . . and stood about seven inches tall.
The figure spread his arms out wide and boomed in an impressively deep voice, “I am Lucifer, Lord of Hell! I have been unleashed from my prison to wage war on Heaven and Earth! Bow before me and despair!”
Sam squinted at the little person, puzzled. “This is the big, bad, bringer of all things evil and nasty?”
“I guess.” Dean leaned forward a bit, trying to get a better look from across the room.
“I thought he’d be . . . bigger.”
“Well, it explains a lot,” Dean shrugged with a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s definitely compensating for something.”
Lucifer scowled at him. “Insolent mortal! You are less than the dust beneath my feet!”
Sam chuffed a laugh. “Lot of attitude for such a little guy.”
“You know what they say - phenomenal cosmic powers, itty bitty living space.”
“I am Evil incarnate,” Lucifer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. “Show some respect for the ruler of all demons.”
Dean thought for a second, then shook his head. “Nah.” Pulling his Colt from the waistband of his jeans, he took aim and fired. Lucifer had time for a single squeak before he splattered over the floor.
Sam raised his eyebrows curiously. “Huh.” He walked over to inspect the glistening stain. “It’s still twitching.” With one size 14 shoe he stomped on the little bits and ground them firmly into the concrete. Nodding in satisfaction, he scraped the bottom of his shoe on Lilith’s leg.
He looked over at Dean with a cautiously hopeful light in his eyes. “Now what?”
Dean glanced around at all the blood and dead bodies. “I say we torch the place, salt the ashes, then go find the nearest bar. I’m starving.”
“What about --?” Sam gestured between them, a combination of guilt and dread on his face.
Dean shrugged as he gave Ruby’s corpse a kick. “I still owe you one holy hell of a beat down, but that can wait until after the hangovers.” He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Brother, we just stopped the Apocalypse and kicked some major demon ass. Let’s celebrate a bit.”
“Yeah, okay.” Sam smiled as they made their way towards the door, looking for things to burn. “How’d you get here so fast, anyway?”
“Chuck told us where, then Cas beamed me over with his magic fingers.” Dean wiggled his own fingers. “He stayed back to take on an archangel, and probably dickless Zach too.”
“Speaking of compensating for something,” Sam muttered darkly, and Dean chuckled as he lit the first curtains on fire. Soon they stood outside the convent, watching the flames go higher and higher, lighting the night sky.
Leaning back on the trunk of Ruby’s car, Sam nudged Dean. “Wonder if Chuck saw it going down this way.”
“Slutty demons, pimping bastard angels, blood-drinking psychic boy, and Devilspawn Barbie with Action Figure Lucifer.” Dean shook his head. “Someone’s got a weird sense of humor.”
Sam gave him a crooked smile. “Think we’re done with all this end of the world apocalypse shit now?”
“God, I hope so. Demons and angels can just duke it out themselves from now on, and leave us out of it. I just want to get back to the family business, y’know, saving people, hunting things.” Crossing over to the driver’s side door, he glanced around the isolated area. “I want pie. You see a place on the way?”
“There’s a town a few miles back that way.” Sam pointed, then jumped when he heard a sudden banging from the trunk. Dean arched an eyebrow, and Sam winced. “Um, we might have to wait a bit on that pie . . .”