The Heart of Fate - NC17 - Chloe/Dean - Chapter Thirty-One
Title: The Heart of Fate
Category: Smallville/Supernatural
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama
Ship: Chloe/Dean
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: My Bloody Valentine, Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid, Dark Side of the Moon, 99 Problems, Point of No Return, Hammer of the Gods, The Devil You Know, Two Minutes to Midnight (Season 5)
Word Count: 5,903
Summary: With a little help from Cupid, Dean gets exactly what he needs.
Previous: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty,
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Sam waited until they arrived back at Bobby's to tell Dean his plan for saying yes to Lucifer.
Chloe sat in the office with Bobby, looking over papers with him while the two brothers had their talk. Since it wasn't her place, she hadn't brought it up, even if on the ride home, she felt like she had a huge secret on her shoulders and didn't like keeping it from Dean. But it wasn't her secret to tell and at least in this case, it wasn't going to have to be kept long.
She cringed when Dean yelled, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Gaze lifting, she found them as they appeared just in the doorway of the kitchen, Dean glaring back at his brother.
"Dean…" Sam sighed.
"No, don't Dean me!" he exclaimed. "I mean, you-you have had some stupid ideas in the past but this…" He looked back at Bobby. "Did you know about this?"
"What?" Bobby asked, rolling toward them.
"About Sam's genius plan to say yes to the devil," he scoffed sarcastically.
Frowning, he nodded his head slowly.
Dean's brows screwed up and his eyes turned toward Chloe. "And you?"
She sighed.
"Well thanks for the head's up!" he yelled at them.
"Hey, this ain't about us," Bobby told him.
Turning around, Dean cocked his head and pointed at Sam. "Ya can't do this."
Sam shrugged. "That's the consensus."
"All right, awesome, then, end of discussion." His cell rang before anybody could argue and Dean dragged it out of his jeans pocket. Glancing back, he pointed and said, "This isn't over," before he flipped over his phone and held it to his ear. "Hello?" he growled.
"Dean."
Mouth ajar, he looked back at Sam. "Cas?"
Sam leaned forward worriedly. "Is he okay?"
He held a hand up to say 'Just hold on,' and then turned back to his phone. "We all thought you were dead, where the hell are you man?"
"A hospital."
His brows knotted. "Are you okay?"
"No."
His eyes widened when Cas said no more before he prompted, "You wanna elaborate?"
"I just… woke up here." He sighed. "The doctors were fairly surprised; they thought I was brain dead."
His brows furrowed, eyes turning upward. "So a-a hospital."
"Yeah, apparently after Van Nuys I suddenly appeared… bloody and unconscious on a shrimping boat off Delacroix."
Closing his eyes, Dean shook his head.
"I'm told it upset the sailors."
"Uh…" He cleared his throat. "Well, I gotta tell you man, you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box."
"H-How?" he asked, voice hitching with pain.
"It's a long story, buddy. Look, we're goin' after Pestilence now, so if you wanna… zap over here…?"
"I can't zap anywhere," he sighed.
His lips pursed. "What d'you mean?"
"It seems my batteries are- are drained."
"What d'you mean, you're outta angel mojo?"
"I'm saying that I'm thirsty and my head aches…"
Dean turned around brows furrowed.
"I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it! I'm-I'm saying that I'm just incredibly…"
"Human," Dean finished.
He sighed.
Dean took a seat, muttering, "Wow. Sorry."
"My point is, I can't go anywhere without money for… an airplane ride and food… And coffee infused with pain medication, ideally."
"All right, look, no worries," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Bobby's here, he'll wire you the money."
"I will?" Bobby asked in the background.
Chloe socked his shoulder, frowning at him.
He frowned back at her grumpily.
"Dean, wait," Cas said. "You said no to Michael… I owe you can apology."
"Cas, i-it's okay."
"You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be," he said sincerely.
Brows heavy over his eyes, he replied sarcastically, "Thank you…" And when he didn't receive a reply, added, "I appreciate that."
"You're welcome."
Brow cocked, he opened his mouth to say more only to hear Cas disconnect. Lowering the phone, he shoved it back in his pocket and sighed. "Great."
…
Seven hours later, the three were en route to Davenport, Iowa, where Brady promised Pestilence would be hiding.
"You should drop me off at the bus station," Chloe said, moving to the edge of her seat and leaning over theirs.
Brows furrowed, Dean looked back at her. "What? Why?"
"Relax," she assured. She nearly scoffed; as if she was just going to offer herself up for the first ride home. Men… They could be so dense. "I just thought someone should be there to meet Cas… An angel-turned-human in a very busy bus station sounds like a really bad idea to me."
He pursed his lips. "I dunno…"
"Dean…" She stared at him incredulously. "What's safer?"
Sighing, he nodded. "All right, fine."
"That's it?" she said, surprised. "Usually you argue more."
"Yeah, 'cause usually you want a part in the dangerous stuff."
She grinned. "It's less boring."
Dean took the turn-off for the Greyhound and shifted in his seat, glancing at Sam and then back at her. "So, you two shared the details on his little 'yes' plan… Where was I?"
"Getting beat-up by Brady," she offered, smiling.
He frowned back at her.
"Look, Sam called Bobby, I overheard, he wanted our two-cents, we gave it." She shrugged; sounded simple to her.
"And?"
Her brows furrowed. "And what?"
"And you told him not to, right?"
She bit her lip. Not in so many words, no… Or at all.
His eyes narrowed, lips pursing. "Chloe…"
"You know I'm right here, right?" Sam argued, sighing.
"Shut up," Dean muttered, turning his attention back to her. "You can't really think it's a good plan!"
"I think that Sam knows what's best for him and that I have no say in it, not really." She sighed. "Do I want him to invite Lucifer out to play? No, of course not. But I can't tell him what to think or feel. If he really thinks he can do this, who am I tell him not to?"
"Uh, sane!" he growled.
"Dean…"
Jaw ticking, he shook his head. "Never mind! We're all gonna have a real damn serious talk about what is and isn't crazy when this is all over."
"Yeah, because you're the spokesperson," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Grinding his teeth, he refused to argue with her and stopped abruptly in front of the bus station entrance. "Try not to get into trouble," he told her.
Hopping out, she saluted them both. "Try not to get diseased." With a wink, she turned and walked away, hurrying inside to keep an eye out for their powerless angel.
Muttering under his breath, Dean hit the gas and took off out of the parking lot, his tires squealing.
…
Night had fallen where Sam and Dean staked out Serenity Valley Convalescent Home.
"All I'm sayin' is, if you're gonna share with the class, maybe not leaving me outta the loop for a few days would be a good idea."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I thought we were gonna talk about this later."
"Yeah, well, bite me."
He sighed. "Dean… Are you mad because I didn't tell you, or because I did tell Chloe and she didn't tell you?"
He glared at him. "Does it matter?"
"Since I'm the only one getting heat from it right now…" His brows rose high on his forehead in emphasis as he nodded. "Uh, yeah."
Jaw ticking, he looked back toward the building. "I changed my mind, we'll talk later."
Binoculars in hand, they each looked window to window for any sign of trouble.
"So, this is Doctor Evil's lair, huh?" he sighed.
Sam watched as a man was wheeled up the path toward the doors. "It's kinda more depressing than evil."
"Yeah, it's like a four-color brochure for dying young." Dropping his binoculars, he waved them around, saying, "'Course to Pestilence, it's probably Dollywood in there."
Scoffing, Sam muttered, "Great… Whole building full of people, we don't know who's human, who's demon, and who's Pestilence."
Lips pursed, he glared at the building thoughtfully.
"So what do we do?"
"Hang on…" Dean lifted his binoculars and zeroed in on a security camera. His eyes widened with an idea.
A few minutes later, they were inside and walking up and down hallways, searching for the security office.
Finding it, Dean turned the handle and walked in. "Hey, hi, uh…" he said in greeting, "I was looking for my Nana, uh… Her name is, uh, Eunice Kennedy." He nodded.
The guard pointed back with his thumb. "Go around front and see the nurse."
He lifted a finger back at Sam and then stepped in closer. "You mind just helping me out, sir?" He let the door close. "Uh, she's about, uh… that small," He motioned with his hand just above the desk, "And grey hair, wears diapers." With the guard sitting forward and Dean at a good angle, he finally just uppercut him and left him unconscious on the floor.
Shaking the sting out of his hand, he stepped back and banged on the door for Sam to come in before dragging the guard out of the way.
Closing the door behind him, Sam cocked a brow, "Eunice Kennedy?"
"That's the beauty about improv, Sammy," he said, lifting a shoulder. "Ya never know what's gonna come outta your mouth."
Scoffing, he simply looked at the security screens. His brother was one of a kind.
…
Chloe checked the arrival time for the sixth time since being dropped off. She'd already spent all her change on vending food, gone to the bathroom twice, paced until her feet hurt and a few other people waiting glared at her, and texted Lois for entertainment. Unfortunately, her cousin was busy hunting down a story, she was regretting the last bag of cheezies she ate, and the bus was ten minutes late. However, finally, it was announced that Castiel's bus had arrived and they'd be out soon. Making her way over to meet him, she wondered if the boys had caught Pestilence yet. There was some worry in not being with them, unable to witness it all firsthand. She kept her ears open for her cell to ring; if anything went wrong, Dean would call her. Unless he was dead, then it was a moot point.
People hurried down the stairs of the Greyhound, all of them either in a hurry to get their baggage out from beneath the bus or rushing toward friends and loved ones. Chloe lifted up on her tip toes to try and see over heads, trying to spot Cas amidst the crowd. Finally, in his usual tan trench coat and looking very much out of place, he stepped out into the open, looking around in confusion.
Shoving past a few people, she stepped into view. "Cas!" she shouted, making her way past security.
Just as she was about to hug him, he grabbed her hand and stared at it. "You're engaged," he said in greeting. He blinked. "To Dean."
Brows furrowed, she nodded slowly. "Quick deduction skills, Sherlock."
He stared at her a moment, head cocked, confused by her comment.
"Never mind," she sighed. "Can I hug you know?"
"If it's what you want," he replied simply.
Chuckling, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing. "We were worried about you," she murmured, feeling an overwhelming need to cry just then.
Standing, unsure what to do, he simply nodded.
Reaching down, she wrapped his arm around her waist. "Just… squeeze. It's a sign of affection."
Carefully, slowly, he put his arms around her body and squeezed quickly. Clearing his throat, he said awkwardly, "I don't think Dean would approve of this."
Trying her best not to laugh, she let go of him, instead hooking her arm with his. "How does coffee and a cab sound?"
Turning toward her, his brows perked with interest. "The first sounds more appealing than the second."
Grinning, she was happy they had their angel back.
…
Bored, Sam stared at the security screens, seeing nothing but black and white screens with nurses moving elderly people from one room to another. Head perched on his upturned hand, his brows furrowed. "So what are-" He turned his head to see Dean had fallen asleep next to him. Reaching out, he shoved his chest. "Hey."
Snorting as he woke abruptly, he lifted his head.
"What are we even looking for?" Sam asked him.
He waved a hand. "Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick."
"Everybody looks sick."
Head falling back, he shrugged. He had no better ideas.
While Sam watched, Dean paced to keep himself awake. "You think Cas is in yet?"
He checked his watch. "I dunno… Maybe." He looked back at him. "Why don't you call Chloe?"
Dean frowned, sitting back on a counter and looking away.
"You can't seriously be mad at her…" When he got no reply, Sam scoffed. "Dean, it was my business. If anything, she was just keeping my confidence."
"Yeah, well, glad to see you two are so damn chummy," he muttered sarcastically.
"God, you are not pulling the jealousy card again, are you?" he sighed. "I don't think of her that way. Hell, a couple days ago I told her she was my sister!"
Dean's face screwed up. "What?"
"She was just… She really, I dunno… She supported me, y'know?" Leaning back in his chair, he exhaled heavily. "I thought she'd try and talk me out of it-"
"She should have."
"No, Dean, you're not getting it…" He half-smiled. "For the first time, somebody told me it was up to me. Th-That I didn't have to do what everyone else said or wanted, but that it was my decision." He stared up at him. "You don't know how lucky you are… I mean, she doesn't just get you, she gets this life! She gets how weird it can be, how tiring, and she accepts it. She accepts every part of it. The bad, the good, and the people." He shook his head. "Right then, I wasn't just your little brother o-or Lucifer's meatsuit, I was… I was Sam. That's all she saw, all she cared about."
Brows furrowed, he nodded slowly, letting his words and the silence sink in before finally he asked, "Sister, huh?"
He grinned. "Yes, Dean… She's like a sister to me. One I really hope you won't blame for my decision."
His chin lifted. "Thought we decided you weren't saying yes."
"We did…" He turned back toward the screens. "Doesn't mean it's not an option though."
As a man stepped out of a door, the screen began to flicker, a line intersecting his face. "Hey!" he said, drawing Dean's attention to where he pointed.
Leaning over, hands on the desk, he watched the screen as it rolled out of focus, following the man as he moved from screen to screen, hallway to hallway.
"Oh now we're talkin'," he muttered.
…
"Dr. Green," an elderly woman, confined to a bed greeted. "How was your trip?"
"Oh, very productive," the man said, taking a seat next to her on her bed.
With silver hair and an almost sickly appearance, the man took her hand in his and patted it. "And how are we tonight, Celeste, my favorite patient?"
She sighed warmly.
"Nurse says you can't sleep," he said, looking at her with concern.
"Oh, I just feel worse and worse…"
"Well," Mr. Green said, taking out his glasses, "That's because you're suffering from a combination of the common cold, Dengue fever, and a nasty, nasty case of Japanese encephalitis."
"What are you-I-I'm sorry, I-" She chuckled sweetly in confusion.
"No, you heard me." He smiled before reaching out and brushing his hand across her forehead. "Oh, and look at that," he said as her complexion turned even more sickly. "You never had chicken pox as a child." He touched the tip of her nose. "Well this… is gonna be fascinating."
Struggling to breathe, Celeste struggled, "But I… How could I…?"
"Have all those diseases at once?" he asked, shaking his head. Grinning, he said, "Well, it's a…" He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with his knuckle, "proprietary blend. I mix it up in a Petri dish - the Petri dish being… you."
"Oh…" A hand lifted toward her chest.
"Try and relax, it'll be all right," he assured.
"Are you… gonna… c-cure me?" she hoped.
He tipped his head. "No… You're going to die. In… 4, 3, 2-"
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Celeste suddenly vomited; green liquid splattering across Dr. Green's face and arm.
"Interesting," he said simply.
…
Guns in hand, Sam and Dean rushed down a hall, pausing and drawing back when they saw an orderly down the way. Waiting around a corner until he was out of sight, they walked quietly down the hall, glancing in a room only once at a busy nurse. Looking up as they hurried by, she lifted her head in recognition and hurried to where her boss was with Celeste. "Sir," she said in greeting, rushing into the room. Her eyes flicked black with her demonic presence. "The Winchesters are here…" She lifted her chin and told him, "We should go."
Cleaning Celeste's vomit from his glasses, he laughed shortly. "Are you kidding me?"
Squirming awkwardly, she said, "They have a track record with horsemen."
"You mean my brothers?" he sneered, wiping violently at his glasses. "What they did to my brothers," he said through clenched teeth. "Nope." He lifted his glasses to see how clean they were, narrowing his eyes to focus. "The only reasonable thing to do here is to take it outta their healthy young asses," he told her calmly.
Swallowing tightly, she argued, "We're under strict orders not to kill the vessels."
"Well if Satan wants them so bad he can glue them back together!" he shouted, his eyes wide with rage.
She drew her head back.
Finding his inner-strength once more, he held his hands out, inviting her to come to him. "Come, come…"
Walking slowly, she hesitated at his dark expression, but finally let him embrace her. Wrapping her arms around him, she closed her eyes, while he patted her shoulder and looked irritable for having to apologize in any fashion for his temper. "Now then…" he murmured, reaching for his ring and twisting it.
…
Walking quietly through the halls, Sam and Dean were suddenly hit with a wave of something and each began coughing thickly. Eyes blurred, they continued forward, struggling against the tickle in their throats and the pressure in their chests. Coming around a corner, they were met with two dead bodies, that of a nurse and a doctor, and their coughing increased. Leaning against opposite walls for support, they pushed forward regardless.
Groaning, Sam said, "Must be getting close."
"Ya think?"
Dean bent over as his cough strained his breathing while Sam began to sway, the floor going in and out of focus.
Stepping over the doctor, Dean paused, bending over and using a table to keep himself up.
"Dean…" Sam crossed toward him, grabbing him by his shoulders and trying to help him up. It was too much for either of them, however, and they fell to the floor in a heap. While Dean coughed on the floor, Sam struggled to stand, holding his knife up as he blinked at the door in front of him, trying to read the numbers.
Walking toward it, he was surprised when it swung open.
A healthy young nurse appeared and Sam waved his knife at her.
"The doctor will see you now," she said simply.
"Sam… Dean," the fake Dr. Green greeted, grinning as he sat next to the dead Celeste. He waved them forward.
Unable to stand any longer, Sam collapsed on the floor and past him, Dean lay with his eyes closed, face against the linoleum.
"Come right in," Pestilence mocked.
…
"I don't live here, how should I know where the elderly home is?" Chloe argued.
"If I had my powers, we'd already be there," Castiel moped.
"Did he just say powers?" the cab-driver asked, looking back at them warily.
"It was a long drive, all right? He doesn't know what he's saying," she muttered. "It's Serenity Valley Convalescent Home… And we need to get there quickly!"
"Look, Lady, it doesn't matter how many times you say it, I don't know where it is."
"Well, don't you have a map or something? Or a base you can call?" she exclaimed.
"I wouldn't have to do anything more than think of it and we'd be there," Cas muttered. "And I could bring my coffee with me," he added, glaring at the drive.
"Buddy, there's no drinks in my cab, all right? I've had enough spills to know that much."
"I've decided I don't like Iowa… or its many cab drivers."
Sighing, Chloe rolled her eyes. "I will get you another coffee after, okay?" Leaning forward, she growled, "I don't see you calling in for directions."
The cab driver scowled at her but picked up his radio.
"Eh, this is number 4-4-7, I need directions for a, uh, Serene Valley…"
"Serenity!"
"Oh, yeah, uh, Serenity Valleyelderly home."
"Copy that. Just a second 4-4-7."
Sitting back in her seat, Chloe glared, checking her watch for the time and wincing.
…
The nurse dragged Dean in and dropped him next to his coughing brother before stepping back and watching in satisfaction as they struggled for air.
"Hmm," Pestilence drawled, "You boys don't look well." He cocked his head, standing. "Might be the, uh, Scarlet Fever. Or the Meningitis." Eyes wide, he added, "Oh," He laughed, "Or the syphilis." He clicked his tongue. "Wife isn't going to appreciate that, huh Dean?"
Lying on their sides, blood ringing their mouths, neither brother could do more than glare up at him.
Pestilence tisked. "That's no fun."
Walking toward them, he bent down and grabbed Sam by the hair, yanking his head up. "However you feel right now… it's going to get so very, very much worse." He grinned. "Questions?" Releasing him, he stepped back and filled his hands with antibacterial soap. "Disease gets such a bad rap, doncha think? For being filthy, chaotic, but really, that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself is very… pure."
Spotting the knife across the floor, Dean reached out, his hand shaking, trying to wrap his fingers around the blade.
"Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose. Divide and conquer." Smiling, he lifted his foot and brought it down on top of Dean's reaching fingers.
Groaning in pain, he screwed his face up.
"That's why in the end… it always wins."
Kicking the blade away, he stepped back.
Dean inhaled thickly and brought his pained hand back to his chest.
"So…" He began walking around the room. "You gotta wonder why God pours all his love in to something so messy!" he shouted, sneering down at them. "And weak!"
Dean glared up at him while Sam writhed in pain, teeth clenched as he gripped his stomach tight.
"It's ridiculous," Pestilence muttered before taking a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. Digging into his pocket, he produced his glasses. "All I can do is show him he's wrong." He smiled. "One epidemic at a time."
Sam struggled, shoulders heaving, as air became nearly non-existent.
"Now… On a scale one of to ten… How's your pain?" he mocked.
Behind them, the door opened and in walked Castiel.
"Cas," Dean said weakly.
"How'd you get here?" Pestilence demanded.
"Took a bus," he growled, chest heaving as he stepped further into the room. Pointing a finger toward them, he said, "Don't worry, I-" A cough cut him off and suddenly he fell to his knees, blood spurting from his mouth and pooling on the floor.
Pestilence stared down at him, kneeling so they were eye to eye and grinning. "Well, look at that."
Cas looked up at him, face folded in pain.
"An occupied vessel but…" He shook his head smugly. "Powerless. Well… That's fascinating." He cocked his head. "There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?"
Lunging forward, Cas grabbed up the knife from the floor, stood and sliced it across Pestilence's hand, separating his ring and finger from him. "Maybe just a speck."
Crying out, blood spurting from him, he stumbled backwards.
As the demon attacked him, throwing him to the ground, Cas angled the knife up and plunged it through her stomach.
No longer under the effects of his diseases, Dean and Sam stood from the floor and hurried to the table where the ring lay.
"Doesn't matter," Pestilence said as Dean picked it up. Holding his bloody hand, he told them, "It's too late," before he disappeared.
Sighing, Dean looked back at them, the morbidity of Pestilence's parting words lying heavy on them all. Jaw ticking, he looked to Cas. "Where's Chloe?"
"Fighting with the cab driver…" he replied simply.
His brows furrowed. "What?"
Suddenly, they heard muttering down the hall and the woman in question stepped into the room. Glancing at the dead demon on the floor, she pursed her lips. "I missed all the excitement, didn't I?" she muttered, shrugging.
"What took you guys so long?" Sam wondered.
"First, Cas' bus was late and then the cab driver couldn't find this place…" She shook her head. "He'll be looking for a new job this time tomorrow," she muttered menacingly.
Exchanging a look with his brother, Sam lifted his brows.
"Yeah, sure, look, let's get outta here before people start asking questions," Dean said, crossing the room and taking Chloe's hand as he left.
Following after them, Cas said, "I was promised a coffee stop."
"Chloe, did I ever tell you that you created a monster?" Sam asked, eyeing Cas humorously.
"Jealous you didn't play a part, Igor?" she teased back.
His brows furrowed. "Igor?" he repeated, offended.
Dean laughed, smirking back at him.
…
The ride back to Bobby's was uneventful, aside from Cas and his need for a very specific kind of coffee and a lot of it. Soon enough though, they'd pulled into Bobby's driveway and were sitting in his living room, explaining the latest round with Horsemen number three.
Dean tossed the ring down on the desk for him to see.
"Well…" Bobby sighed, "It's nice to actually score a homerun for once, ain't it?"
Sam looked up at him, brows furrowed. He looked to Dean, who was resting his head on his arm and tossed the ring a few inches away.
"What?" Bobby asked, looking between them.
"Last thing Pestilence said…" He looked up, brows lifted for emphasis, "It's too late."
Sitting next to Chloe in the window seat, a large mug of coffee in his hands, Cas frowned.
"He get specific?"
Sam shook his head. "No."
"We're just a little freaked out that he might'a left a bomb somewhere," Dean said, lifting his head. "So please tell us you have actual good news."
Bobby looked from him over to Cas and then told them, "Chicago's about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy-chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die."
Sam stared, eyes wide.
"Huh," Dean muttered.
Brows screwed up, Cas turned to Chloe and then back to them. "I don't understand your definition of good news."
Chloe pursed her lips so not to laugh.
Hearing him, Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well… Death - the horseman - he's gonna be there." He looked between the Winchesters. "And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm… Get his ring back…"
"Yeah," Dean said sarcastically, "You make it sound so easy."
"Hell," He lifted his hands up, "I'm just tryin' to put a spin on it."
Leaning back, Dean licked his lips, shaking his head.
"Bobby, h-how you'd put all this together anyways?" Sam wondered.
He stared back, eyes wide. "I had, y'know… help."
Glass clinking behind them grabbed their attention.
Dean turned to see Crowley pour himself a glass of whiskey.
"Don't be so modest," the demon said in greeting.
Brow cocked, Dean turned back to stare at Bobby questioningly.
"I barely helped at all." Smiling smugly, Crowley joined them in the office.
Bobby rolled his eyes, frowning.
"Hello boys," he said, nodding to them. "And to you, Lovely," he added, winking at Chloe. Leaning in the doorway, he raised his glass to his mouth. "Pleasure, etcetera." Taking a sniff, he recognized the holy water and drew the glass away, dropping it on a desk instead. "Go ahead," he continued, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Tell them. There's no shame in it."
Dean, Sam, Chloe and Cas all turned to look at him.
"Bobby?" Sam asked. "Tell us what?"
He stared back silently a moment, warring with Crowley before finally saying, "World's gonna end, seems stupid to get precious over one little… soul."
"You sold your soul?" Dean growled.
"Bobby…" Chloe whispered, shoulders slumping.
"Oh, more like pawned it," Crowley argued. "I fully intend to give it back."
Dean reared around angrily and shouted, "Well then give it back!"
"I will."
"Now!"
Sam's forehead wrinkled. "Did you kiss him?"
"Sam!" Dean admonished.
"Just wondering."
They both turned to look at him questioningly.
"Guys!" Chloe said, before raising a hand to cover her mouth, hiding her amusement.
Looking between them, Bobby exclaimed, "No!"
Crowley cleared his throat, holding his phone forward to show off a picture of him and Bobby puckering up.
Sighing, Bobby's eyes fell shut in embarrassment.
Both boys squinted at the picture, lips pursed in morbid fascination.
"Why'd you take a picture?" Bobby demanded.
Crowley turned the phone back toward him and glanced at the picture before replying, "Why'd you have to use tongue?"
Dean and Sam turned to look back at Bobby who was turning a bright red.
"All right, y'know what? I'm sick of this." Standing from his chair, Dean waved a finger at him, "Give him his soul back, now…" He walked toward him menacingly.
"I'm sorry, I can't," Crowley said.
"Can't or won't?" he shouted.
"I won't, all right?" he yelled back. "It's insurance!"
"What're you talkin' about?" Dean looked him up and down questioningly.
"You kill demons…" He nodded toward Sam. "Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it." He lifted his brows, half-smiling. "But you won't kill me. As long as I have that soul in a deposit box."
"You sonuvabitch," Bobby drawled.
Pursing his lips, Crowley's eyes fell and then rose to meet his. "I'll return it," he vowed. "After all this is over and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?" he exclaimed harshly.
Unable to argue, Dean and Bobby both ground their teeth silently.
"Fantastic. Well, I'm off to do a little digging then… You lot try and stay busy, yeah?"
He disappeared from sight and Dean turned around, cocking his head at Bobby. "What the hell?"
Sighing, he leaned back in his chair. "Does this really need repeatin'? He could get us the information and I had my soul to bargain with… We were runnin' outta options."
"How'd you know he'd really give it back?" Chloe asked, brows knotted.
He looked at her, lips pursed. "I didn't."
"Bobby…" Standing, she crossed toward him, hand on his shoulder.
Reaching back, he patted her hand and then glared at the two boys. "It's done and there ain't no takin' it back. So let's move on." Sighing, he rolled his wheelchair back. "You wanna help make dinner, Sully, or stand around lookin' pretty all day?"
With a soft snort, she rolled her eyes and followed him. "Come on, Cas… You probably need a refill."
He frowned down into his mug. "I preferred when I could hold the whole pot with my hands."
"Yeah, well, unless you want to revisit the hospital with second degree burns…" she trailed off.
Rising, Cas followed after her. "They didn't give me any coffee in the hospital."
…
Outside in the scrap yard, Dean went through his trunk's inventory. Moving guns, Latin texts, and various weapons out of his way, trying to figure out all that was going to be needed.
Sam walked by, stopping next to the Impala and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the door, sighing.
Looking up, Dean's brows furrowed. Circling the car, he said, "Lemme guess, we're about to have a talk." He pursed his lips as his brother looked at him.
Chuckling under his breath, his mouth curved in a short half-smile. Turning toward him he said, "Look, Dean, um…" He cleared his throat. "For the record, I agree with you. About me." His eyes widened seriously. "You think I'm too weak to take on Lucifer…" He lifted his shoulders. "Well so do I…" He scoffed. "Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up I am… You, Bobby, Cas…" He shook his head. "I'm the least of any of you. Hell, if it wasn't for Chloe being new to the hunting game, she'd probably be stronger too."
"Aw, Sam…" Dean sighed. Turning around, he leaned back against the car, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's true," he argued, waving a hand through the air. "It is. But… I'm also all we got…" He shook his head. "If there was another way…" He shrugged. "But I don't think there is. There's just… me."
Dean's chin fell, hitting his chest.
"So I don't know what else to do… Except just try to do what's gotta be done."
Dean licked the inside of his lip and looked up at him, brows furrowed with uncertainty.
"And… scene," Crowley interrupted behind them, drawing a hand down in front of his face.
Jaw ticking, Sam looked up and away in irritation.
Circling the Impala, Crowley came to stand in front of them, pulling out a newspaper and passing it to Sam. "Something you need to see."
Taking it, he opened it up and looked down to where Crowley pointed. "Niveus Pharmaceuticals rushing delivery of it's new… Swine Flu vaccine to, quote, Stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak, uh… Shipment's leave Wednesday…"
Dean's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Crowley.
"Niveus Pharmaceuticals," he explained, "Get it?"
He looked between them and their confused expressions. Sighing, he muttered, "You two are lucky you have your looks…" Leaning forward with purpose, he exclaimed, "Your demon lover, Brady… VP of Distribution… Niveus."
Dawning fell across their faces.
"Ah, yes, that's the sound of the abacus clacking…"
Dean glared back at him.
Crowley looked between them. "We all caught up?"
"So Pestilence was spreading Swine Flu…" Sam deduced.
"Yeah, but not just for giggles, it was step one. Step two is the vaccine," Dean added. "And you think-"
"I know," Crowley interrupted. "I'll stake my reputation. That vaccine is chock full of grade A, farm fresh Croatoan virus."
Sam scoffed at their bad luck.
Closing his eyes, Dean shook his head.
"Simultaneous country-wide distribution," Sam sighed, nodding. "That's quite a plan."
"Ya don't get to be Horseman for nothing," Crowley told them. "So you boys better stock up on…" He looked into their artillery trunk. "Everything. This time next Thursday… we'll all be living in Zombieland."
Dean and Sam looked at each other.
Well…
Shit.
[Next: Chapter XXXII.]