Chapter Eighty

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Erika, Dean, and Bobby stand watching the news on a tv that is playing on televisions in a store window in front of her. Erika worries her tooth over her lip, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Reports are flooding in – a 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, more in Hong Kong, Berlin, and Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation but says to expect a six-figure death toll" Castiel lingers close by. None of them appears to have any hope left.

"It's starting," Castiel tells them.

"Yeah, you think, genius?" Dean sneers back.

"You don't have to be mean"

"So what do we do now?" Erika asks.

"I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol... Just wait for the inevitable blast wave" Castiel answers moving to her, she shakes her head.

"Yeah, swell. Thank you, Bukowski. She meant, how do we stop it?" Dean corrects.

"We don't. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of Armageddon begins"

"Okay, well, where's this chosen field?" Dean asks.

"I don't know"

"Well, there's got to be something that we can do"

"I'm sorry, Dean. This is over" Castiel tells him.

"You listen to me, you junkless sissy – we are not giving up! Erika? Bobby?"

"There was never much hope, to begin with. I don't know what to do" Bobby offers.

................

"In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day – sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They'd pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove 1,000 miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars... for hours... without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls... "

........................

Chuck is typing the words he is saying on his computer.

"....but they were never, in fact, homeless. That's a good line" The phone rings and Chuck answers it. "Mistress Magda?"

"Um, no, Chuck"

"Oh, uh, Dean. Uh, wow. I, uh, I didn't know that you'd call" Dean is in the Impala, parked in a city alleyway.

"Who's Mistress Magda?"

"Nothing. She's a, uh, a – just a, uh... a close friend"

"Yeah, I'll bet – real close. Whatever happened to Becky?"

"Didn't work out. I had too much respect for her"

"Boy, you really got a whole virgin/hooker thing going on, don't you?" Dean asks.

"Okay, this can't be why you called"

"Sam said yes"

"I know. I saw it. I'm just working on the pages"

"Did you see where the title fight goes down?"

"The angels are keeping it top secret – very hush-hush"

"Aw, crap"

"But I saw it anyway. Perks of being a prophet. It's tomorrow, high noon – place called Stull Cemetery"

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