Story: Duckpocalypse Now: (Supernatural/Darkwing Duck): (4/10)
Title: Duckpocalypse Now
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Supernatural/Darkwing Duck
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Darkwing, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Morgana, with a special guest star later!
Warnings: Um… cartoonish violence, spoilers for previous Buffy/Darkwing xover, The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, light swearing
Summary: Set after The Building Blocks of Good and Evil (an interlude story). SPN S6. While on an ordinary hunt, Sam and Dean find themselves pulled into an unusual circumstance. They arrive in St. Canard and meet Darkwing and co. just in time for the main event: another attempt at an apocalypse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any related characters. DW belongs to Disney, SPN belongs to Kripke, and Buffy belongs to Whedon. For fun only.
Author's Notes: *laughs evilly* I am the chosen one! I, alone, have the power to take this plot seriously! *laughs evilly a bit more* Okay, but seriously, this is set in the same universe as The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, and it's set in between that story and its yet-to-be-written sequel, Devil You Don't Know. Although this is technically a three-way crossover between Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it is mostly between Darkwing Duck and Supernatural. Anything you don't know about what happened in Building Blocks will be revealed here. You won't need to read the other story, and you won't really need to know too much about the Buffy universe. I'll reveal everything you need to know. (So it's spoilry for that other story, if you're interested in it.) That being said, enjoy!
Chapter Four: In Which It Might Hit the Fan
The manor home they pulled up in front of was something that would have been perfectly in place in October, set of in the middle of nowhere. But, as it wasn't that time of year (that was, if this dimension even celebrated Halloween-there were really too many questions for Sam and Dean to ask) and that it was set in between two high-rise apartment buildings, the manor stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. It was weathered, and dark, with a yard full of nothing but dead flowers and ominous looking trees that overhung the walkway, casting long shadows. Dean blinked, but he would've sworn that he had seen a flash of lightning behind the home, even though there wasn't a cloud in the block-y, cartoonish sky.
The ducks and the Winchesters disembarked the vehicle, and Darkwing led the way to the front door. They were halfway up the walk when Dean swore he felt a breeze and chilly rain beginning. He glanced up, seeing the sudden appearance of clouds blacker than the night they filled. He glanced back at his brother, jerking a thumb skyward. Sam shrugged. Well, at least Dean wasn't crazy-or if he was, Sam was too, which was also kind of comforting.
They stopped in something of a messy line behind Darkwing, who jabbed a finger into the bronze button by the darkly stained door. The doorbell was normal enough, though Dean thought he heard a scream somewhere in the distance. He decided just to go with the flow, even when the door opened by itself. Every fiber of being yearned for a sawed off and some rock salt shells, but Darkwing and Launchpad seemed as if this were an everyday thing. The elder Winchester cast one more glance back at his younger brother, who shrugged once more, adding, "When in Rome, I guess." They entered the home.
The door slammed shut behind them-when Sam was barely clear-and they found themselves in a modestly furnished sitting room consisting of a large armchair, a sofa, and a bookshelf covering the left most wall, packed full of books. And, despite its gloomy exterior, the interior wasn't so bad, done in dull blues and reds.
"Dark?" a sultry, very feminine voice called from the archway at the back-right of the room. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, Morg. I, uh, brought you a surprise, hehe," Darkwing chuckled nervously.
"A surprise?"
A curtain pushed aside, and standing in the room, a look of mild surprise-as predicted-on her small beaked face was a tall duck. She stood just a tad taller than Launchpad, her hair giving her most her height, as it rose in a beehive style. Two dark gray strips highlighted the otherwise ebony hair, and when she motioned to Dean and Sam, a piece of her crimson red dress stretched out with one of her hands. She had no visible feet, and a dark emerald broach was clasped at her throat.
"More humans, Dark, darling?" she asked.
"Wait, so… you too? You've met more of our, uh, kind?" Sam asked.
"Yes, I have. I'm Morgana Macawber, by the way," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean."
Dean stretched out a friendly hand. "Ma'am."
Morgana arched a single brow as she shook it, lightly. He drew the hand back, glancing over at Sam. "I don't know why I did that."
"Me either."
"Yeesh," Darkwing groaned, running a hand down his bill.
Morgana glided-since, seriously, she seemed to have no feet-forward, circling the Winchesters briefly, before coming to stand beside Darkwing.
"Well," she proclaimed, "I know you can't be slayers. So, what is your story?"
Dean shook his head, annoyed. After all, they, apparently, had no slayers in their world-or if they did, they didn't give two shits about anything. Hunters, as far as he was concerned, should be the primary concern here. "That's the second time that's come up. Why the hell are they so important?"
The group of ducks visibly bristled. Morgana crossed her arms again, this time tilting her head ever so slightly to the right.
"Well, one is buried in my backyard," she snipped.
Dean blinked, feeling more abashed than he would have expected. Superpowers or not, he supposed that slayers were just as vulnerable to the hazards of the job as Hunters. Sam's elbow made a quick and sudden collision with his ribs, forcing out a quiet, "Sorry."
It was Launchpad who cleared his throat, speaking up, "Hey, they didn't know."
The tension in the room melted, and Dean let out an awkward chuckle.
"Yeah, um, kind of being thrown a curve ball here. I mean, ducks don't talk in our world," he said.
"Unless this is the trickster's doing," Sam added.
"Gabriel is dead, Sammy. Besides, this is too weird. Even for him." Aware of the watchful eyes of the four ducks on him, Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "So, seen any apocalypses around here lately?"
"What?" Morgana asked, clearly taken off guard.
Darkwing let out another awkward chuckle. "Yeah, sweetie, that's the other reason why we're here. We were talking about the weird weather and such that was going on world-wide, and these two said that led to an apocalypse in their world. Thought we could maybe check up on that, hmm?"
"The apocalypse," Sam corrected.
"Oh, no, there are several different kinds," Launchpad put in. "Ask Gos about it sometime."
Sam and Dean could only blink at the aviator.
"All over the world, you say?" Morgana murmured, making her way over to her bookshelf.
"Yeah, even Duckburg has experienced some of this," Launchpad said.
Dean snorted out a laugh. "Duckburg."
Sam and Darkwing both glared at him. He shrugged. "What? Oh, come on! It would be like if we had a city named Peopleburg or something."
Both the superhero duck and Dean's brother rolled their eyes and shook their heads. It was a lot of work not laugh at that too. Morgana, for her part, had ignored this conversation, making her way over to the sofa. She took a seat and cracked the spine on the huge, black leather volume she held. She flipped through several musty, dusty pages, skimming each with a white-feathered finger for several moments before she finally furrowed her brow.
"Oh dear."
She let out a long sigh as all others in the room exchanged a glance. Darkwing, Launchpad, Dean, and Sam drew a bit nearer, waiting with baited breath.
"Um, sweetums, what did you find? Are we actually fighting an apocalypse here… again?"
"Again?" Sam and Dean asked simultaneously. Sure, Launchpad had mentioned there were several different kinds… but they had never mentioned fighting an actual apocalypse.
Morgana waved them off the question. "This is different. This is the most literal of all apocalypses. This one actually involves Beelzebub leaving his dominion to rule on Earth."
"But, we've beaten him before," Darkwing said.
"Okay, now, what? Seriously, what?" Dean asked.
Darkwing was pulling at his beak again. This time, he followed it up by sweeping his purple fedora off his rounded head and swiping his forehead with the back of his hand before replacing the hat.
"Gos kinda sorta made a deal with him to gain some powerful magic… dark magic," Darkwing explained.
The Winchesters' collective eyes widened. Darkwing shrugged. "She doesn't have the magic anymore, and I'm alive. So it's all water under the bridge."
"What the hell did we get into here?" Dean asked, turning toward his brother. "Talking ducks? Witches? Slayers? Another apocalypse? How the freakin' hell did this happen?"
Sam shrugged. "I think one problem at a time."
Morgana, still seated on the couch and thumbing through the text, frowned up at her audience. "And that deal Gos made might have been what sparked the apocalypse. Or when Buffy was here and you two woke the Hellmouth. And, I'm sorry, did I hear you say another apocalypse?"
"Yeah. That's how we recognized the signs," Sam began. "You see, in our world, just last year or so, we put a stop to ours. Of course, Lucifer actually got loose and we had to get him back into his cage in Hell. It's a really long story. And it was all sort of my fault."
"Looks like you and Talking Purple Duck have something in common," Dean joked.
Nobody laughed, and he cleared his throat, pressing on. "Uh, back in our world, there were sixty-six seals that needed to be broken to open up Lucifer's cage, out of a possible six hundred and sixty-six. Does that book mention anything like that?"
"Six hundred and sixty-six!" Darkwing shouted.
"Yeah, like, how are we supposed to know which ones to try and stop?" Launchpad asked.
Morgana was nodding down at her book. "Well, it's not in English, and it's been quite a while since I've studied any of the Dark Languages, but if I'm getting the gist of this, yes there are six hundred and sixty-six possible seals to break. However, that means across all the dimensions that have a Hell. Apparently, not all do."
"Well, aren't their lives grand," Darkwing snipped, and Dean and Sam nodded.
"You said all of your seals were actually broken?" Morgana asked, and the boys nodded again. "Hmm. Well, that breaks it down to just six hundred."
"Yeah," Darkwing scoffed, apparently having had just about enough of all this news. "Just six hundred."
But Morgana's finger was gliding down the page, and she was shaking her head. Sighing, she stood, cradling the open book.
"Like I said, it's been a while, and some of these seals are a complete mystery to me, but… Dark, did I happen to see on the news that you were fighting a robot in the image of the devil?"
Darkwing puffed his chest out, pride radiating from him. "Yes. That megalomaniacal Megavolt managed his mischief. In the end, the Mighty Masked Mallard ended the battle."
Morgana groaned, and Darkwing deflated. "I was afraid of that, Dark."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Again, if I'm reading this right-I would really need more time to work through translating this properly-that means there's only, um, one, two, three-six. Only six more before Beelzebub rises."
Darkwing and Launchpad gulped loudly. Dean was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He couldn't take much more of this.
"So a robot devil is one of the seals? Really? How… what?"
"Yes, it reads, roughly, El Diablo Robótico must shed a hero's blood. Oh! Dark, that's it! It didn't-?"
But Darkwing was shaking his head, showing the small wound on his arm he had sustained during the fight with the electric rat. Dean's head was beginning to hurt, and he was really tempted to ask if they had alcohol in this world.
"Wait, isn't that Spanish? El Diablo Robótico? Is that the Dark Language? Cause I took some Spanish in school," Sam offered.
Morgana rolled her eyes. "No, that's the translation."
Sam's brow furrowed. "So it translated from the Dark Language… to Spanish?"
The witch shrugged. Dean was seconds away from bashing his head against the nearest wall and just hoping he woke up. Maybe he had already had his drinks for the night. Sam recovered, sighing and holding up his hand.
"Okay, so… it lists the seals that need to be broken for this dimension, right? This book?"
"Yes, it seems so. And, if I'm not mistaken, they are in the order in which they need to be broken. But, again, my speed at translation…"
"That's okay. In theory, if we stop the next one, we stop them all, right? So, do you happen to know which one is next?"
Sometimes, Dean thought that maybe, just maybe, that time at Stanford wasn't a complete waste. Morgana seemed to be glaring down at the book before she finally nodded.
"I think it has something to do with floods," she said. She muttered through the words of a language Dean definitely didn't recognize before she finally added, "Yes. It reads, 'The waters shall arise and reclaim the fallen land.'"
Sam nodded, once, and Dean had a feeling his recognized that move.
"We'll stay, and help stop the apocalypse. This apocalypse," Sam said.
"Hold up, time out," Dean said, dragging his brother off to the side of the room just a bit. "I'm not trying to be a dick or anything… but don't you think our world has enough problems, without having to go knocking down doors to other dimensions looking for more problems to solve?"
"Dean, we have some real experience with this. We can help stop this before it starts. We can keep this world from suffering like ours did. We've got the aid of hindsight. Maybe… maybe we were brought here, specifically here for a reason."
Dean could feel the urge to argue with his brother rising, but with one look at the determination in Sam's eyes, he sighed. Dean was many things, but he wasn't a complete idiot. He could hear the words that Sam hadn't said. He could hear the guilt. Karmically, Sam Winchester was trying to correct past wrongs. The elder Winchester nodded. They returned to the group at large.
"Okay," Dean sighed. "We'll help while also looking for a way home. But I would like to note that we did have an angel helping us last apocalypse and say what you will, I think it made all the difference."
Launchpad blinked at him. "Wow, really? An angel, wings, halo, and everything?"
"Um, real angels are a little different than what we're told, but yeah. A real angel," Dean answered.
"Hey, why don't we try to contact Castiel? I mean, he's an angel. He's travelled back in time. Maybe he can travel through dimensions," Sam suggested.
Dean clapped his hands together once, pointing at his brother. "Best idea I've heard all night."
"I might be able to do one better," Morgana said. "Angels, as I've understood it in the past, are pure energy in their more celestial forms. They're not bound by the same laws that those of us of flesh and blood are. Willow and I, in our interdimensional travel studies, have come across mentions of angels travelling back and forth relatively easily. All it requires is a spell."
Dean chose to ignore the reference to a person-he assumed, hoping that trees weren't sentient in this world too-he didn't know and focus on the important information. "Do you have said spell?"
"No, but I know I could find it easily," the witch-duck answered.
Before anyone else could respond, the sound of a static-y radio sounded from somewhere around Darkwing. All eyes fell to the hero duck as he pulled a small radio from the within the folds of his cape. Dean was beyond questioning things in this world now. He only vaguely noted how quickly that had happened. A voice on the radio was speaking, making a call for all police. There was, apparently, flooding in some of the still devastated areas of St. Canard-the city they were in, the Winchesters assumed. Darkwing and Launchpad exchanged a look while Darkwing put away the radio.
"That sounds like Liquidator," the sidekick said.
"It also sounds like the next seal," Sam said.
All eyes fell to Morgana, and she motioned toward the door. "Go. Stop him. Some of the seals look a bit harder to translate. I'll be working on that and a spell to contact your angel friend."
"Castiel," Dean said.
She nodded. Meanwhile, Darkwing was already leaping to action. "Let's get dangerous!"
Dean shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling."
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Supernatural/Darkwing Duck
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Darkwing, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Morgana, with a special guest star later!
Warnings: Um… cartoonish violence, spoilers for previous Buffy/Darkwing xover, The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, light swearing
Summary: Set after The Building Blocks of Good and Evil (an interlude story). SPN S6. While on an ordinary hunt, Sam and Dean find themselves pulled into an unusual circumstance. They arrive in St. Canard and meet Darkwing and co. just in time for the main event: another attempt at an apocalypse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any related characters. DW belongs to Disney, SPN belongs to Kripke, and Buffy belongs to Whedon. For fun only.
Author's Notes: *laughs evilly* I am the chosen one! I, alone, have the power to take this plot seriously! *laughs evilly a bit more* Okay, but seriously, this is set in the same universe as The Building Blocks of Good and Evil, and it's set in between that story and its yet-to-be-written sequel, Devil You Don't Know. Although this is technically a three-way crossover between Darkwing Duck, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it is mostly between Darkwing Duck and Supernatural. Anything you don't know about what happened in Building Blocks will be revealed here. You won't need to read the other story, and you won't really need to know too much about the Buffy universe. I'll reveal everything you need to know. (So it's spoilry for that other story, if you're interested in it.) That being said, enjoy!
Chapter Four: In Which It Might Hit the Fan
The manor home they pulled up in front of was something that would have been perfectly in place in October, set of in the middle of nowhere. But, as it wasn't that time of year (that was, if this dimension even celebrated Halloween-there were really too many questions for Sam and Dean to ask) and that it was set in between two high-rise apartment buildings, the manor stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. It was weathered, and dark, with a yard full of nothing but dead flowers and ominous looking trees that overhung the walkway, casting long shadows. Dean blinked, but he would've sworn that he had seen a flash of lightning behind the home, even though there wasn't a cloud in the block-y, cartoonish sky.
The ducks and the Winchesters disembarked the vehicle, and Darkwing led the way to the front door. They were halfway up the walk when Dean swore he felt a breeze and chilly rain beginning. He glanced up, seeing the sudden appearance of clouds blacker than the night they filled. He glanced back at his brother, jerking a thumb skyward. Sam shrugged. Well, at least Dean wasn't crazy-or if he was, Sam was too, which was also kind of comforting.
They stopped in something of a messy line behind Darkwing, who jabbed a finger into the bronze button by the darkly stained door. The doorbell was normal enough, though Dean thought he heard a scream somewhere in the distance. He decided just to go with the flow, even when the door opened by itself. Every fiber of being yearned for a sawed off and some rock salt shells, but Darkwing and Launchpad seemed as if this were an everyday thing. The elder Winchester cast one more glance back at his younger brother, who shrugged once more, adding, "When in Rome, I guess." They entered the home.
The door slammed shut behind them-when Sam was barely clear-and they found themselves in a modestly furnished sitting room consisting of a large armchair, a sofa, and a bookshelf covering the left most wall, packed full of books. And, despite its gloomy exterior, the interior wasn't so bad, done in dull blues and reds.
"Dark?" a sultry, very feminine voice called from the archway at the back-right of the room. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, Morg. I, uh, brought you a surprise, hehe," Darkwing chuckled nervously.
"A surprise?"
A curtain pushed aside, and standing in the room, a look of mild surprise-as predicted-on her small beaked face was a tall duck. She stood just a tad taller than Launchpad, her hair giving her most her height, as it rose in a beehive style. Two dark gray strips highlighted the otherwise ebony hair, and when she motioned to Dean and Sam, a piece of her crimson red dress stretched out with one of her hands. She had no visible feet, and a dark emerald broach was clasped at her throat.
"More humans, Dark, darling?" she asked.
"Wait, so… you too? You've met more of our, uh, kind?" Sam asked.
"Yes, I have. I'm Morgana Macawber, by the way," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean."
Dean stretched out a friendly hand. "Ma'am."
Morgana arched a single brow as she shook it, lightly. He drew the hand back, glancing over at Sam. "I don't know why I did that."
"Me either."
"Yeesh," Darkwing groaned, running a hand down his bill.
Morgana glided-since, seriously, she seemed to have no feet-forward, circling the Winchesters briefly, before coming to stand beside Darkwing.
"Well," she proclaimed, "I know you can't be slayers. So, what is your story?"
Dean shook his head, annoyed. After all, they, apparently, had no slayers in their world-or if they did, they didn't give two shits about anything. Hunters, as far as he was concerned, should be the primary concern here. "That's the second time that's come up. Why the hell are they so important?"
The group of ducks visibly bristled. Morgana crossed her arms again, this time tilting her head ever so slightly to the right.
"Well, one is buried in my backyard," she snipped.
Dean blinked, feeling more abashed than he would have expected. Superpowers or not, he supposed that slayers were just as vulnerable to the hazards of the job as Hunters. Sam's elbow made a quick and sudden collision with his ribs, forcing out a quiet, "Sorry."
It was Launchpad who cleared his throat, speaking up, "Hey, they didn't know."
The tension in the room melted, and Dean let out an awkward chuckle.
"Yeah, um, kind of being thrown a curve ball here. I mean, ducks don't talk in our world," he said.
"Unless this is the trickster's doing," Sam added.
"Gabriel is dead, Sammy. Besides, this is too weird. Even for him." Aware of the watchful eyes of the four ducks on him, Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "So, seen any apocalypses around here lately?"
"What?" Morgana asked, clearly taken off guard.
Darkwing let out another awkward chuckle. "Yeah, sweetie, that's the other reason why we're here. We were talking about the weird weather and such that was going on world-wide, and these two said that led to an apocalypse in their world. Thought we could maybe check up on that, hmm?"
"The apocalypse," Sam corrected.
"Oh, no, there are several different kinds," Launchpad put in. "Ask Gos about it sometime."
Sam and Dean could only blink at the aviator.
"All over the world, you say?" Morgana murmured, making her way over to her bookshelf.
"Yeah, even Duckburg has experienced some of this," Launchpad said.
Dean snorted out a laugh. "Duckburg."
Sam and Darkwing both glared at him. He shrugged. "What? Oh, come on! It would be like if we had a city named Peopleburg or something."
Both the superhero duck and Dean's brother rolled their eyes and shook their heads. It was a lot of work not laugh at that too. Morgana, for her part, had ignored this conversation, making her way over to the sofa. She took a seat and cracked the spine on the huge, black leather volume she held. She flipped through several musty, dusty pages, skimming each with a white-feathered finger for several moments before she finally furrowed her brow.
"Oh dear."
She let out a long sigh as all others in the room exchanged a glance. Darkwing, Launchpad, Dean, and Sam drew a bit nearer, waiting with baited breath.
"Um, sweetums, what did you find? Are we actually fighting an apocalypse here… again?"
"Again?" Sam and Dean asked simultaneously. Sure, Launchpad had mentioned there were several different kinds… but they had never mentioned fighting an actual apocalypse.
Morgana waved them off the question. "This is different. This is the most literal of all apocalypses. This one actually involves Beelzebub leaving his dominion to rule on Earth."
"But, we've beaten him before," Darkwing said.
"Okay, now, what? Seriously, what?" Dean asked.
Darkwing was pulling at his beak again. This time, he followed it up by sweeping his purple fedora off his rounded head and swiping his forehead with the back of his hand before replacing the hat.
"Gos kinda sorta made a deal with him to gain some powerful magic… dark magic," Darkwing explained.
The Winchesters' collective eyes widened. Darkwing shrugged. "She doesn't have the magic anymore, and I'm alive. So it's all water under the bridge."
"What the hell did we get into here?" Dean asked, turning toward his brother. "Talking ducks? Witches? Slayers? Another apocalypse? How the freakin' hell did this happen?"
Sam shrugged. "I think one problem at a time."
Morgana, still seated on the couch and thumbing through the text, frowned up at her audience. "And that deal Gos made might have been what sparked the apocalypse. Or when Buffy was here and you two woke the Hellmouth. And, I'm sorry, did I hear you say another apocalypse?"
"Yeah. That's how we recognized the signs," Sam began. "You see, in our world, just last year or so, we put a stop to ours. Of course, Lucifer actually got loose and we had to get him back into his cage in Hell. It's a really long story. And it was all sort of my fault."
"Looks like you and Talking Purple Duck have something in common," Dean joked.
Nobody laughed, and he cleared his throat, pressing on. "Uh, back in our world, there were sixty-six seals that needed to be broken to open up Lucifer's cage, out of a possible six hundred and sixty-six. Does that book mention anything like that?"
"Six hundred and sixty-six!" Darkwing shouted.
"Yeah, like, how are we supposed to know which ones to try and stop?" Launchpad asked.
Morgana was nodding down at her book. "Well, it's not in English, and it's been quite a while since I've studied any of the Dark Languages, but if I'm getting the gist of this, yes there are six hundred and sixty-six possible seals to break. However, that means across all the dimensions that have a Hell. Apparently, not all do."
"Well, aren't their lives grand," Darkwing snipped, and Dean and Sam nodded.
"You said all of your seals were actually broken?" Morgana asked, and the boys nodded again. "Hmm. Well, that breaks it down to just six hundred."
"Yeah," Darkwing scoffed, apparently having had just about enough of all this news. "Just six hundred."
But Morgana's finger was gliding down the page, and she was shaking her head. Sighing, she stood, cradling the open book.
"Like I said, it's been a while, and some of these seals are a complete mystery to me, but… Dark, did I happen to see on the news that you were fighting a robot in the image of the devil?"
Darkwing puffed his chest out, pride radiating from him. "Yes. That megalomaniacal Megavolt managed his mischief. In the end, the Mighty Masked Mallard ended the battle."
Morgana groaned, and Darkwing deflated. "I was afraid of that, Dark."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Again, if I'm reading this right-I would really need more time to work through translating this properly-that means there's only, um, one, two, three-six. Only six more before Beelzebub rises."
Darkwing and Launchpad gulped loudly. Dean was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He couldn't take much more of this.
"So a robot devil is one of the seals? Really? How… what?"
"Yes, it reads, roughly, El Diablo Robótico must shed a hero's blood. Oh! Dark, that's it! It didn't-?"
But Darkwing was shaking his head, showing the small wound on his arm he had sustained during the fight with the electric rat. Dean's head was beginning to hurt, and he was really tempted to ask if they had alcohol in this world.
"Wait, isn't that Spanish? El Diablo Robótico? Is that the Dark Language? Cause I took some Spanish in school," Sam offered.
Morgana rolled her eyes. "No, that's the translation."
Sam's brow furrowed. "So it translated from the Dark Language… to Spanish?"
The witch shrugged. Dean was seconds away from bashing his head against the nearest wall and just hoping he woke up. Maybe he had already had his drinks for the night. Sam recovered, sighing and holding up his hand.
"Okay, so… it lists the seals that need to be broken for this dimension, right? This book?"
"Yes, it seems so. And, if I'm not mistaken, they are in the order in which they need to be broken. But, again, my speed at translation…"
"That's okay. In theory, if we stop the next one, we stop them all, right? So, do you happen to know which one is next?"
Sometimes, Dean thought that maybe, just maybe, that time at Stanford wasn't a complete waste. Morgana seemed to be glaring down at the book before she finally nodded.
"I think it has something to do with floods," she said. She muttered through the words of a language Dean definitely didn't recognize before she finally added, "Yes. It reads, 'The waters shall arise and reclaim the fallen land.'"
Sam nodded, once, and Dean had a feeling his recognized that move.
"We'll stay, and help stop the apocalypse. This apocalypse," Sam said.
"Hold up, time out," Dean said, dragging his brother off to the side of the room just a bit. "I'm not trying to be a dick or anything… but don't you think our world has enough problems, without having to go knocking down doors to other dimensions looking for more problems to solve?"
"Dean, we have some real experience with this. We can help stop this before it starts. We can keep this world from suffering like ours did. We've got the aid of hindsight. Maybe… maybe we were brought here, specifically here for a reason."
Dean could feel the urge to argue with his brother rising, but with one look at the determination in Sam's eyes, he sighed. Dean was many things, but he wasn't a complete idiot. He could hear the words that Sam hadn't said. He could hear the guilt. Karmically, Sam Winchester was trying to correct past wrongs. The elder Winchester nodded. They returned to the group at large.
"Okay," Dean sighed. "We'll help while also looking for a way home. But I would like to note that we did have an angel helping us last apocalypse and say what you will, I think it made all the difference."
Launchpad blinked at him. "Wow, really? An angel, wings, halo, and everything?"
"Um, real angels are a little different than what we're told, but yeah. A real angel," Dean answered.
"Hey, why don't we try to contact Castiel? I mean, he's an angel. He's travelled back in time. Maybe he can travel through dimensions," Sam suggested.
Dean clapped his hands together once, pointing at his brother. "Best idea I've heard all night."
"I might be able to do one better," Morgana said. "Angels, as I've understood it in the past, are pure energy in their more celestial forms. They're not bound by the same laws that those of us of flesh and blood are. Willow and I, in our interdimensional travel studies, have come across mentions of angels travelling back and forth relatively easily. All it requires is a spell."
Dean chose to ignore the reference to a person-he assumed, hoping that trees weren't sentient in this world too-he didn't know and focus on the important information. "Do you have said spell?"
"No, but I know I could find it easily," the witch-duck answered.
Before anyone else could respond, the sound of a static-y radio sounded from somewhere around Darkwing. All eyes fell to the hero duck as he pulled a small radio from the within the folds of his cape. Dean was beyond questioning things in this world now. He only vaguely noted how quickly that had happened. A voice on the radio was speaking, making a call for all police. There was, apparently, flooding in some of the still devastated areas of St. Canard-the city they were in, the Winchesters assumed. Darkwing and Launchpad exchanged a look while Darkwing put away the radio.
"That sounds like Liquidator," the sidekick said.
"It also sounds like the next seal," Sam said.
All eyes fell to Morgana, and she motioned toward the door. "Go. Stop him. Some of the seals look a bit harder to translate. I'll be working on that and a spell to contact your angel friend."
"Castiel," Dean said.
She nodded. Meanwhile, Darkwing was already leaping to action. "Let's get dangerous!"
Dean shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling."