Armed with Hell flames and fury - SN fic - gennish, PG, AU

[tigriswolf]

Title: Armed with Hell flames and fury
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: only the dogs are mine; title from Milton
Warnings: AU; spoilers for aired season 5; allusions to Paradise Lost.
Pairings: gennish with a smidge Lucifer!Sam/Dean
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 2285
Point of view: third
Notes: follows "one day, they'll be unstoppable"
More notes: if Dean or Sam is talking to the dogs, it’s in Latin. Unfortunately, I don’t actually know Latin, so just pretend, ‘kay?

Rover is easily the biggest, at least ten pounds heavier than Hades, the second largest. Dainty Rina is the smallest and insanely infatuated with Sam.

The first few months were touch-and-go, with Dean expecting their hellish bloodlines to burst out-once puppy chow, always puppy chow.

But then Zachariah caught up with them again, appeared right in Dean’s face and commanded him to Say yes, boy, or we will send you to the Pit with no chance of being Raised.

Zeppelin and Rover lunged for the angel, snarling. Levon and Metallica were half a step behind, howling the attacksong. Hades spun to face the second angel, one neither Winchester recognized.

Rina looked to Sam and he pointed at Zachariah. “Kill,” he whispered in Latin, the language they’d begun training the pups in. Rina charged up to Sam’s least-favorite angel and launched into the air, latching onto his throat. He already bled from the other hounds’ fangs and claws, but nothing fatal yet.

Zachariah died trying to scream. Unlike the Colt and Ruby’s knife, it seemed, hellhounds could kill angels. Good to know. Sam would speculate in later days that because they were spirit creatures, they simply attacked the soul.

The second angel fled and Dean burnt the building around the vessel’s corpse. Rina curled up in Sam’s arms shotgun, spread out over his lap, while the rest of the pack filled up the backseat. Neither brother spoke for fifteen miles.

After that, Dean began offering them more praise and affection. As a boy, he’d always wanted a dog. Two weeks later, the pack ripped their way through a dozen demons and their place in Dean’s heart was cemented.

o0o

As the hounds grew, Dean and Sam fed them a mixture of raw meat and actual dog food. Once, as an experiment, they trapped a demon in a devil’s trap-all the hounds but Rina and Zeppelin tore it apart. Dean and Sam shared a grin; the pups had a new food source. Instead of exorcizing demons to Hell from then on, they just trapped them as smoke and let the hounds loose. That satisfied everybody but Zeppelin, who liked physically playing with his food, and Rina, who ate majestically from a bowl, so long as Sam was the one who served her.

Other hunters kept away from the Winchesters after they adopted the hounds. Demons avoided them whenever possible and tried fleeing if they got too close. Usually, Sam caught them, the last holdover from Azazel’s taint. No angel visited them since Zachariah’s death except Castiel, though he came around less and less.

The hounds didn’t get along well with other creatures, even dogs, though Rover seemed to have a special place for Castiel in his heart. Dean and Sam had to give specific orders-no killing, no hunting, no blood-at the border of every town. When they let the pups off the leash, it was for a hunt or to protect each other, like the time Sam got caught by Jesus-Freak hunters who thought he was the Anti-Christ and had to be put down before the end times.

He’d gone into town at the tail-end of a hunt, for some last minute supplies before they headed on. The hounds stayed with Dean at the abandoned house they’d camped in, and he packed while they wrestled. Zeppelin lay next to him while Rina whined in the middle of the road. She always hated when Sam left her behind.

An hour after Sam should have been back, Dean stood in the midst of the pack, staring towards town. Sam had the car, two knives, a gun, and a few abilities at his disposal. Dean had an arsenal and six hellhounds.

Of course, Sam found trouble. Stupid kid.

“Track Sam,” Dean said, grabbing the duffle of weapons. He hid five guns and seven knives on his body. Rina shot forward, Rover keeping pace while the rest ranged around Dean, Zeppelin staying at his side.

People shied away from the hounds and Dean stared at them all, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. On the other side of town, in an old house that smelled of death, the pack stopped. Rina tried bounding to the door but Hades stopped her with a body-check and a soft growl.

Dean said, “Good job, kiddos,” and silently walked the perimeter. Three doors on the first floor, one way into the basement, and the Impala under a tarp around the back. He patted her hood, glaring at the house. All the hounds were on edge, hackles raised, lips pulled back to show their fangs.

“Keep quiet,” Dean ordered, picking the lock. “Find Sam, but no killing ‘til I say so.”

He needed to know what happened before he set them loose, and if Sam had been hurt, then Dean wanted to spill some blood himself.

Zeppelin stayed with Dean and the rest paired off, except Rover. Within minutes, Rina and Hades hurried to Dean, whining. He nodded, palming a knife and a gun. The rest of the pack returned and they followed Rina to the basement stairwell.

As Dean ghosted down, he listened-three distinguishable voices, which meant only there were at least three. He peered around the corner and mentally checked off twenty at a glance.

And Sam, chained to the wall, head hanging, blood pooled at his feet.

Rina growled. The stupid bastards who hurt Sam turned, faces shocked. Dean commanded, “Kill them, but leave some for me.”

Howling their deathsong, the pack sprang forward. Dean wove his way to Sam and gently released him. He wasn’t dead, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly sussed out the worst of the wounds, shredding his shirt to bandage the ones that still bled. Rina appeared and licked Sam’s face, whining. Dean patted her head and whispered, “Good girl. Guard him.”

Dean stood and turned. Examining the scene, he saw that three of the humans had been cornered; all the rest were scattered in pieces. Levon limped over to Dean, the only one of his pack hurt. “You okay, kiddo?” Dean asked, kneeling down to run his fingers along Levon’s right foreleg. He’d been cut with something so Dean knotted a makeshift bandage around his leg and said, “Stay by Sammy.”

The other four kept growling and snapping at the survivors, two men and a woman. One of the men lashed out suddenly, trying to kick Hades. He screamed when Metallica’s jaws snapped on his ankle. She shook her head, breaking the skin and bone, and then let go. The fool gasped in pain, tears pouring down his face. “Please,” he begged. “Please. Don’t kill us.”

Dean scoffed, standing, eyes cold. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“We did the right thing,” the woman bust out. She stood tall and proud. “He’s dangerous and we have a duty to destroy him.”

All the hounds growled again. Of the three, only the woman didn’t flinch.

“You’re the boss,” Dean said. “You set this up.”

She nodded. “We won’t stop until the monster dies.”

Dean stepped through the pack, holstering his gun in favor of a second knife. “Me, neither,” he promised.

Once he was done, he returned to Sam. He’d survive, Dean thought, but couldn’t see how to get Sammy out without damaging him further.

“Search the house,” he ordered. “Kill anyone you find.” Hades, Rover, and Metallica bounded upstairs.

Considering, Dean sorted through his options. He had to burn the house down, till nothing was left. He had to get Sam and Levon some medical care.

“Castiel,” he called. “Please. I need your help.”

Of course, Castiel came. He spared one glance to the mess before focusing on Dean. “I can heal neither your brother nor your hound,” Castiel told him quietly.

“I just need you to move them to the Impala,” Dean explained. “I can handle things from there.”

Castiel inclined his head. “As you will.”

Sam and Levon vanished, Rina whimpering at Sam’s loss, and Dean nodded to Castiel, hurrying up the stairs with Zeppelin and Rina on his heels. The other three met him at the door.

When he got to the Impala, Sam was stretched out on the backseat and Levon curled up shotgun.

“Take your brother to the hospital,” Castiel told him, and he turned to meet Castiel’s gaze. “His condition will not worsen. I will cleanse this ground, erase all evidence of what was done here.”

“Thank you,” he said. Then he looked at the pack-no room for them in the car, and he couldn’t leave them behind.

“I will bring them to you,” Castiel said. The dogs whined, but Dean nodded.

“Listen to Cas,” he ordered and slid into the driver’s seat, peeling off. In the rearview, he saw flames billowing up and he wondered where they could go from here.

o0o

Sam healed and Rina didn’t let him out of her sight for months.

That wasn’t the last hunters they tangled with, or the last stupid folk Dean killed for Sam. The pack grew even more protective of Sam, and Dean, too, which he found annoying.

They never talked about that first attack; Sam claimed he didn’t remember.

Soon, hunters actively hunted them, while demons fled and angels ignored them, and then, Sam held off a group of hunters with Dean bleeding to death behind him, and the pack howled, unable to get close enough to kill.

“Castiel!” Sam screamed. When the angel didn’t appear, and Sam’s powers didn’t respond to his command, and Zeppelin began howling something new, something furious and grieving, Sam let his weapons fall, raised his hands to the sky, and said, “Lucifer-if you save Dean, yes.”

The ground trembled, the pack whimpered, and light poured into him, through him, around him, and Lucifer purred, Sammy.

Lucifer’s power flashed, scorching the hunters from existence.

The pack stooped to their bellies, crying in fearful grief. Lucifer turned to study Dean, barely conscious and gasping around blood.

“Sammy,” he said. “Sammy, no.”

Lucifer smiled, crouching beside him. “Oh, sweet Dean,” he crooned, running his fingers over Dean’s face. “Loyal and obedient, unable to do the necessary-I thank you, brother.” He leaned in close, pressing his lips to Dean’s skin. “Heal now,” Lucifer whispered. “Heal now and live long at my side as my beloved.”

Dean stared up into Lucifer’s eyes. They weren’t red or black or yellow or white. Lucifer’s eyes were the same color as Sam’s. “I’ll say yes to Michael,” Dean promised.

“No,” Lucifer replied. “You won’t. My brother would kill yours, and that is something you’ll never let happen.” Lucifer kissed him again, gentle and warm. “Join me, Dean,” he entreated. “Just us and the hounds, reshaping this world to suit our whims, better than the cesspool God has let this glory become.”

Rina crawled up behind him, whimpering and whining. Zeppelin lunged to his feet, standing over Dean and growling at the king of devils.

Lucifer chuckled. “Very brave,” he said. “But I am your grandfather and I command you to stand down while I discuss things with this man.”

“Calm,” Dean muttered. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Rina flicked him a glance. Zeppelin didn’t even do that.

“You will follow my orders,” Lucifer snarled, rising to his feet. Zeppelin yelped as lightning struck him.

Howling a song Dean’d never heard before, the pack attacked Lucifer.

Some sort of backlash struck him and the world went white.

o0o

Hello, Dean, a familiar voice said.

He opened his eyes to see his parents grinning at him. I’m dead? he asked.

No, Dad said while Mom offered, Not exactly.

Mom stepped forward. This is not my usual form, she explained. But I thought it best to wear a face you knew. A face you loved.

Dad added, I’ve given up convincing you to accept me. It’d be pointless now. I should have visited you long ago, but I was- He shot an indecipherable look to whatever wore Mom. I was distracted, he finished.

Looking around, actively disregarding their words so he wouldn’t freak out, Dean asked, Where’m I?

The closest thing you’ll understand is a waiting room, the Mom-shape said. Your spirit couldn’t withstand Satan’s might, so-at a friend’s request-I pulled you here.

My friend? Or yours? Dean wondered aloud, rolling to his feet.

Yours, the Dad-shape answered. My brother. Her-child.

Cas, Dean whispered. He didn’t show when Sam called.

No, he did not. Castiel is now no more, the Mom-shape said, somewhat sadly. He did a magnificent thing and then returned to the God-Head.

I don’t-I can’t- Dean paused, swallowing down a scream. Can’t you bring him back? He stared at the Mom-shape, falling to his knees. You’re God, right? He went lookin’ for you and you’re here now, so can’t you just pop him back into existence again?

The Mom-shape shook her head. He has earned his rest, my dearheart. He sleeps in the arms of his Lord. She knelt before him, placing her ands on his cheeks. You have done so well, Dean. Return now and be at peace. The remainder of your days will be safe, easy. Know that the dangers you’ve fought all your life are gone. I’m home now.

What about Sammy? he asked, staring into God’s eyes. What about Zeppelin and the pack?

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

o0o

“Dean!”

He jackknifed up to Sam’s worried shout and the pack’s victorysong.

“Sammy?” he gasped, coughing. “’appened?”

His baby brother engulfed him in a tearful hug. “Dean,” Sam cried. “Dean, Lucifer’s dead.”

Zeppelin licked his face while the other hounds danced around them, and Dean laughed.

“Only us,” he said into Sam’s shoulder. “Only we’d have devil-killin’ dogs.”