"You really do have no idea how special that family of yours truly was. Do you?"
Gently turning around the dial on the car radio I navigate my way to Bobby's channel I know by heart. Signal patching in and out I reach for the amp I've inexplicitly connected. Boosting the radio signal. "KC5 Fox Delta Oscar" I take a chance, radio to my lips "KC5 Fox Delta Oscar." Receiving only patchy static gently readjust the radio in hand seeking a signal. Trying to show show my wearing patiance "KC5 Fox Delta Oscars'. Come in."
"KC5 Fox Delta Oscars, go ahead."
My shoulders sink relieved, "Bobby it's El. We-" Hesitating when Dean pops his head around the corner, I finish "-We've got problems."
"It's okay girl", Bobby calmly voices "Is everybody alright?"
Watching Dean's gaze slide to my leg I silently shake my head indicating for him to not tell Bobby about it. When he inclines his head I adamantly shake mine again. "That's our problem", I quieten my voice to ensure ears don't overhear. Dean understands. Glancing over his shoulder he's shifting closer to me "Bobby it's Jo. She's... it's really bad. She's losing a tremendous amount of blood and we need to move her but we're bunkered down and-" Biting my lip I take a moment to control the tremble in my tone. Dean's fingers slide to interlock with mine I hold them tightly.
"Okay. Copy that", Bobby's voice comes through after a long silent pause "Now Eleanor we figure out what we do next."
"Bobby I don't-" Finger off the button I rest the radio against my quivering lips. We can't move Jo. She's already lost too much blood. Nobody is around with actual medical tools or expertise to help us. We can't get out because we're caged in by hellhounds. We... we can't be moving Jo.
"Eleanor. You have to figure out your next step."
"I'm trying Bobby!"
Immediately Dean grabs the radio and casts a wary glance over his shoulder. No doubt in either of our minds that they heard. When nobody comes around the corner to investigate into my outburst, Dean steadily raises the radio to his lips "Bobby it's Dean. Look we're hunkered down in a hardware store with hellhounds on our front door after Cas went missing at the sight of Reapers."
"Reapers?"
"Reapers."
"Before Cas disappeared did he happen to tell you how many?"
Dean's gaze cast to me, he moves to radio "From the way he was staring around the street I'm going to say they were everywhere."
"I do not like the sound of that."
Redirecting the radio back to him, Dean asserts sharply "Nobody likes that sound of that Bobby but what does that sound like?"
"It sounds like death, son. I think Satan is in town to work a ritual- unleash death."
"As in this dude and taxes are a sure thing?"
"The Horseman", I overlap Dean's comment, leaning my weight off my leg and against the shelves "The pale rider in the flesh."
Furrowing his brows, Dean shakes his head with the claim "Isn't death already tromping around the joint?"
"Not like this", I assure Dean with an abrupt edge to my voice, "They kept this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. The last time he was hauled up Noah was building his boat." With a hesitant glance out the windows of the hardware store, I admit "Would explain the Reapers. They're waiting on their boss to show up to work."
Dean's face slackening with distress I tighten my fingers around his. His grip matched my intensity. As if this situation could've become any worse. "Well, do you have any other good news?"
"Well in a manner of speaking. I've been researching Carthage since you've been gone. Trying to sus out what the Devil might want there. What you said just drops the last piece of the puzzle." Bobby sounds to be slamming shut a book, a minor thud heard over the line as he recites "The Angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage."
Grimacing, I mutter "Sounds fantastic."
"Back during the civil war there was a battle in Carthage. A battle so intense the soldiers called it The Battle of Hell Hole.
Radio to his lips, Dean hesitantly questions "Where'd the massacre go down?"
"The land of William Jaspers farm."
So we get out of here and get to that farm. However, how do we pull Jo out of this with us? As if coming full circle, Dean's attention falters back to me with a similarly grim expression. "We take her", Dean stresses to me, "And we run like hell."
"And if we don't make it?"
"You did say you'd follow me to hell", Dean reminds me, a daring smirk faltering on his lips "You still mean it?" I quietly chuckle but it's far from authentic. Noticing, Dean falters at a loss "What better plan is there El? Our window on the Devil is closing and we need to get Jo to a hospital with people actually in it." Tongue skimming over my teeth I curtly nod. Dean's right. It's the only shot we've got.
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"We just have to get past eight or so hellhounds to get to the farm by midnight" Sam whimsically conders our dumb plan. Signing off to Bobby we'd come out here to tell them what we've found out Our new...not so bright...insane... plan of attack. "And we do that after we get Ellen, Jo, and El out of the town-"
"Um, including me was never a part of the plan."
Unbelievably, Sam glares down at me with an exasperated glower "Your thigh has literally been torn up. You're lucky you're even walking upright." Deciding to argue my point later, I watch Sam spare Jo an uneasy glance as Ellen fusses over her daughter's wound "It's not going to be easy."
"Slide her on a stretcher?" I suggest, motioning over my shoulder to the aisles "Two men on guns another on the stretcher?"
"Or we strap her on", Dean adds, counting off on his fingers "Three men on guns and one to the stretcher?"
"S-Stop." Immediately our attention diverts to Jo. Her voice is barely carrying its way down to us. "Guys... Can we uh... be realistic about this? Please?" Jo shifts her weight up but she doesn't get far. Already robbed of the energy to move. "I can't move my legs", she inhales sharply, sternly looking between us "And I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta..." Understanding the message, shake my head. Still, it doesn't cease her from telling us "We gotta get our priorities here straight."
Looking down at Jo, I listen to her rattle off "Number one... I'm not going anywhere-"
"Joanna-Beth you stop talking like that-"
"Mom I can't fight and I can't walk", Jo cuts her mother off with a tired look "But I can do something." Watching Ellen's lip tremble I avert my attention to wipe the lone tear that streaks down my dirtied cheek. "We've got propane...wiring...rock salt...iron nails...everything we need."
"Everything... we need?"
"To build a bomb Sam" I stubbornly shake my head when Jo's glance flickers meekly up to me "We're getting you outta here Jo if I have to drag you."
"You got another plan?" Jo has enough fight in her to argue back with me. Big doe-like eyes searching mine I know I don't do well enough of a job at hiding my defeat. "You knew the second you looked at me that I wasn't moving. I saw it."
"Jo no" Dean interjects when I lean into him, warm arm around my shoulder "We're not talking about this."
"Have you got any other plan?" Jo continues pressing us with her point. A point none of us want to hear. "Those are hellhounds out there", Jo unamusingly chuckles "They've got all of our scents. Those bitches won't ever stop coming after you." The room is silent. So incredibly silent because she's right. It's a better plan than dragging her out and certainly improves our chances but Jo...We weren't supposed to lose anyone else. If anything that was supposed to be the sole outcome of today. Still, even together, we couldn't do that. Taking advantage of the silence, Jo goes on "We let the dogs in, and you guys hit the roof and make a break for the next building over and I can...wait with my finger on the button." Even deathly pale, Jo still grins "Rip those mutts a new one. Or at least get you a few minutes head start anyway."
"No!" Ellen's voice shatters the calm silence, tears overflowing as she cries "I won't let you."
"This is why we're here. Right?", Jo tells her mom, turning to us "If I can get you a shot on the Devil...We have to take it."
"No-no-"
"Mom this might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult", Jo's voice breaks, a brave smile on her face "You might wanna take it."
Whimpering, Ellen cries. Cries because she's thinking about what we are. That there will be no other way of getting out of here to kill the Devil. Sniffling I watch them share an understanding nod. The Devil needs to die to protect this world and halt the coming apocalypse. We don't get the option to be selfish or press the button to opt-out. Again, we have to make a hard sacrifice. "You heard her", Ellen suddenly speaks, not even looking at us "Get to work."
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It takes a couple hours but we manage to wire up the store into a bomb. Why did it take so long? Apparently, during all the years they traipsed around with John he never once showed them the basics of bomb construction. Amateurs. I'm surrounded by armatures. This comment only left me being labelled Bobby's assassin child by Sam as he filled buckets with iron nails, salt, propane, and bolts. Dean rigged up the buckets with the copper coil around the joint. Insisting that I remain off my leg if I could. Considering we're about to launch back into the fight I didn't object. So instead, I strapped together with the detonator from a house doorbell.
I wait for Dean's moment to be over before I crouch down beside Jo, extending the detonator with a coy grin "More effective than a shotgun." This earns me a small struggling smile. My grin fading, I quietly help wrap Jo's weak bloodied hand around the detonator "Thanks for saving my life."
"Someone had to", Jo breathes faintly, her weakly fading "A hellhound is a piss poor way to end your legacy." I wish I could bring myself to smile, but as Dean's hand slides over my shoulder I just can't muster it as our times up. She knows it too as her own disappears. With a tight hand on hers, I let Dean help me up. The three of us shifted aside to let Ellen in.
Shotgun clattering to the ground I watch her crouching beside her daughter. Gently, she fixes the bandage holding Jo's stomach together. Picking away some of the blood that has dried over it.
Then, Ellen quietly mutters "Someone's gotta let them in."
My hand comes to cover my lips as Jo sobs "Mom no-"
"Like you said you ain't moving", Ellen moves to take the detonator from Jo's grasp, tears falling from both of them "You got me too Jo because you were right. This is important. But I will not leave you here alone."
Quietly, Sam whispers beside me "Dean?"
"Get going now", Ellen commands, even with her voice thick from crying "Go." Watching the two of them... There's no changing it. Any blind fool could know it. Sam takes the lead and Dean tugs my hand gently. My boots are thudding as I move in slow motion towards the stairs. "El?" yanking my hand from Dean, I quickly turn around. With a gentle smile at me, Ellen warmly whispers "Make sure that old man takes care of himself."
My lip trembling, all I can do is nod. My brows furrowed to quell the tears burning to start falling. We're back on the clock. We need to move. Against every moral fiber in I fight. Dragging myself to turn around I force one foot in front of the other and head for the stairs. The brothers wait but the moment I come into view they're moving. Together, we climb the stairs and head fast for a window where we've scouted the fire escape. Whilst they move effortlessly through I fight the urge to yelp when my legs burn upon bending. Scotching over the scaffold I drop myself over the edge and slide down the ladder. Not even bothering with the steps.
Slamming into the pavement we take off sprinting down the alley before the entire place blows. The explosion rocks the ground and the windows shatter. Fire billowing in search of oxygen. The jaw I had clenches releases and my heart falls heavy. A strangled cry falls from my lips Dean's tight grasp on my hand is the only thing that keeps me going. That keeps me running away from the building we've set on fire. Another sacrifice from our friends for our never-ending crusade.
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"Well", Dean mutters as we crouch in the bushes surrounding the farmland, "I think we found our townspeople."
I hardly believe we've found all of them. There are maybe an odd fifty men standing at the base of a dirty hill. Something that sets a chill in my bones. Silently, my attention scopes out the sole figure moving within the clearing. Lucifer. Who, surprising me, is shoveling the dirt he stands atop in the light of the torches scattered around.
"El's with me", Sam quietly suggests "Dean sneaks up from the side and pulls the Colt on him."
Flashing Dean a glance, I agree "I am a pretty good distraction."
"Yeah", Dean sighs uneasily, re-evaluating the scene before us "You're remarkably fluent at talking shit." Arching my brow I merely give a small inclination of my head. It's certainly not far off the mark.
"Okay", Sam bounces on the heels of his boots "Any last words."
Hopes not particularly high, I just can't help remark "Last one to Hell is a rotten egg?"
Sam shifting to conceal his chuckle from his brother, Dean sends me a long side-eye "That's why you've earned distraction status El. Think on that." With a small pat on the back from my boyfriend, I watch him dart off into the darkness with the Colt in hand.
Eyeing Sam, he nudges me "Well it looks like you're going to get those answers from Crowely."
It looks like Sam might just be right.
Bare-handed, I follow Sam out. One distraction coming up. Over the grass, I duck and weave through the men that remain standing. Eying them suspiciously up and down as they stand at attention. Like soldiers in an army. None paying any mind or head as we run through them.
"Hey! Lucifer!" Sam yells and the digging halts, "You wanted to see me?!"
Spinning around Lucifer looks utterly gleeful to see Sam standing before him in the flesh. Discarding the shovel from his hands, Lucifer drops down the dirt mountain he's propped upon. The closer he gets the more I understand the wear and tear of Lucifer's soul. I mean some blisters are tearing his skin apart like sunburn from the inside. "You don't need that gun Sam", Lucifer motions to the weapon in hand "You know I would never hurt... you." His words taper off at the sight of me standing just behind Sam. His delighted smile merely grows at the sight of me, "Alexander... correct?" My brows furrowing, Lucifer elatedly giggles "Of course you are. That menacing scowl is unmistakable."
Noting Dean weaving around cattle carts and barrels strewn about the field, I press "You're familiar?"
Lucifer watches me for a long moment. As if he's bouncing an idea back and forth. It's a calculated stare that curls my toes. "You know your relatives and I never got along", he hums too and fro "See there's me with my Demons just trying to get dear old Dad's attention and then there they are. Always swooping in to steal the thunder like an annoying little sibling. Until the big man decided your breed was just a...wasted resource."
Wasted resource.
Catching sight of Dean crouched behind a kart I give a tiny shift of my hand for reasons I don't even have a moment to consider. My head spinning. I shouldn't trust it. I mean, he's the Devil. That's incentive enough to stop indulging him. Still, I'm hooked on every word coming out of his mouth. Like he's dangling the information there just like every other darn Angel- and Demon- who's had my ear.
Snatching the shotgun from Sam, I pump it readily at Lucifer. I can't kill him or injure him but maybe...just maybe... he might consider me dangerous enough to talk. "You shouldn't speak of things you don't understand", I warn Lucifer, my eyes almost directly narrowed slits "Someone had to halt the wave of death you condoned this world to for centuries."
"Wow", Lucifer's head tilts, not an ounce of attention even paid to the barrel I direct at his head "You really have no idea how special that family of yours truly was. Do you?" Another giggle echoes around the farm, Lucifer glances to the sky "Oh how I bet my brothers are frowning at me now."
On cue thunder crackers overhead. As if his brothers are issuing a warning to his smite brother. That alone makes me want to push harder. "Then tell me," I dare the Devil, his wonderous gaze falling from the ominous head night sky to me "What am I?"
My attention swept up in Lucifers I don't yield and I don't break it. Lucifer isn't taunting, bargaining, or making deals. And as I watch him, maybe he wants to pull just one more over on Daddy and his loyal band of fools. Shifting his weight, Lucifer clasps his hands in front of him with a thoughtful look up and down. "When I was fallen I created my Demon children and monsters to give my father the proverbial finger. I commanded my monsters kill his creation- humankind- and drag their good Heaven bound souls to Hell. God couldn't bring forth enough Angel power to stop them and my brothers were...well...higher-then-thou." Crouching on the mounting of soil, Lucifer directs his finger upwards, "Then it goes that my Father had a thought. Maybe it's not about flinging unearthly bodies at the problem but rather creating something specialized in that problem."
"Hunting monsters and Demons", I breathe. Despite my best efforts, I'm hanging on his every word.
"Yes and no", Lucifer tilts his head, digging into his memory "God came to your ancestor Alexander the Great. Showed him all I had done- a glimpse behind the velvet curtain. Father made him an offer and Alexander accepted. Changed the very fabric of his being to become the first of his elite warriors. Fiercer, nastier, tougher. Saviour of righteous souls on their way to Heaven." Clapping his hands together, Lucifer extends his index fingers right to me with a smug smile. Ove the roar of thunder, he asserts "You my dear are the descendant of the world's first created Guardian Angel."