for [Bad username or unknown identity: apagon: ]Captured by the Game: what happens next. I'd really like to see how Sam and Dean deal with the aftermath of Azazel and/or a demon free-for-all.
“That thing you’re reaching for better be a Snickers, because I’m going to make you eat it.”
Sam suppressed an eyeroll; Dean had stolen the line from an old action movie. Still, Dean made it sound damned good, and Dean knew it. The demon, recognizing a bad situation when it saw one, brought its host’s hands ostentatiously up.
“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” it said, ignoring Dean. “You made sure you were Daddy’s only hope.”
“Hope for what?” Dean knew as well as Sam that they wouldn’t get a real answer, but sometimes even lies were informative.
“Lilith,” the demon said. “She’s coming for him, and for you. Enemy of my enemy and all that. So can’t we just all get along?”
Sam knew the name and the legend. “And I’m supposed to fight Lilith when Azazel can’t,” he said, not hiding his skepticism. He found it hard to imagine that his powers would amount to much against an original—maybe the very first—demon.
“Well, you could just soften her up for him to take down. I’m pretty sure he’s cool with that. But the point is: Lilith has you on her Most Wanted list, and that’s not a great place to be without friends. So now’s the time to kiss and make up. Azazel will even guarantee the safety of your brother and your lover—since he’s a twofer and all.”
Sam’s hand clenched and the demon gurgled, but that didn’t stop the shame washing over Dean’s face. “You’re going to need more juice!” the demon choked out. “What you’ve got isn’t enough to stop her.”
“And you’ve got more to give him,” Dean said. “What’s the price?”
The demon stared at Sam. “Azazel’s blood was the trigger. But that was years ago. You need more blood.” Slowly, it lowered the host’s arms, turning one so that it was offering him its wrist. “The unholy sacrament. The only thing that can make you strong enough to destroy an ancient like Lilith.”
“Okay,” Dean growled, “that’s enough.” He began to spit out the exorcism. Sam didn’t interrupt the recitation, ignoring the demon’s howls. He remembered stealing Azazel’s power for himself when he’d shot John with the Colt; that hadn’t involved any blood, but he could see how the transfer might be more effective with a physical medium. It didn’t seem to make sense that demon power could be stronger when transferred to a human, except that magic didn’t follow the laws of physics, and sometimes you got strange results when you crossed boundaries. Human/demon was a pretty serious boundary; Sam’s existing powers (and those of his dead quasi-brothers and sisters) were evidence enough of that.
Not that Sam was going to step in and save this demon to test out the theory. Azazel was crude enough to have pumped the demon full of heroin, or something worse. If he did experiment, it would be with a subject of his own choosing. And only after Dean agreed.
****
“But I already drank demon blood, and I’m not evil,” Sam argued. “Not any more, I mean.”
Dean’s unimpressed face was pretty quelling, Sam decided. “I’m with you on worrying about Lilith, Sammy. Nobody thinks she’s good news. But the whole thing stinks, and I don’t just mean sulfur.”
“They nearly got you this time, Dean.” It was Sam’s best argument, not because Dean had any concern for his own safety but because Dean had an inkling of how far Sam would go to save him. On the downside, Dean hated thinking of himself as a potential hostage, and Sam could look forward to half an hour of begging if he wanted to get laid tonight—feeling too fragile, Sammy, you don’t know what might hurt me, until Sam would be sorely tempted to use the TK in unapproved and pornographic ways. But Sam could trade momentary gratification for long-term security. “How long until we’re both distracted at just the right time? How long until they use somebody you saved, maybe, to set a trap we can’t get out of?”
Low blow, but he saw Dean feeling the truth of it. “If that’s the problem,” Dean said slowly, “then supercharging your battery’s not going to do enough. You’re still just you, and as awesome as that is, you ain’t an army.”
Sam cocked his head. “Sure, but where are we going to get an army? Pretty sure I can’t whammy anyone else with powers, even if you’re okay with that now,” but Dean was already shaking his head.
“I’ve been talking with Bobby,” Dean said. “What do you know about angels?”
Sam blinked. “Angels haven’t walked the earth in centuries, Dean. Not non-fallen ones, anyway.”
“Yeah, but Lilith hasn’t either, right? Might be time for a comeback.”
Sam sat down on the motel bed, which still smelled like Dean. “You’re saying … we should try to make an alliance with angels? Wouldn’t the whole gay incest thing be kind of smiteworthy?”
Dean scoffed, but again there was that flash of guilt, which Sam just knew was more about Dean not feeling entitled to having anything good for himself than anything else. “First of all, half of Genesis is close relatives fucking, kinda by definition. Second of all, there’s got to be at least one of the feathery bastards who really, really wants to take Lilith down. And it sure seems like you’ve got the mojo for that, at least if we get the right intel. Demons aren’t the only ones who can figure out ‘enemy of my enemy.’”
Sam examined Dean. He seemed perfectly serious. It was a bold move, putting a whole new set of players on the table. From what Father—Azazel—had said, angels had factions just like humans and demons, and maybe that wasn’t entirely trustworthy but it wasn’t out of line with what the sacred texts said. Not that he’d trust Dean’s safety to anyone else, but it wouldn’t be bad to have allies.
“All right,” he said. “So just exactly how do we summon ourselves an angel?”
“That thing you’re reaching for better be a Snickers, because I’m going to make you eat it.”
Sam suppressed an eyeroll; Dean had stolen the line from an old action movie. Still, Dean made it sound damned good, and Dean knew it. The demon, recognizing a bad situation when it saw one, brought its host’s hands ostentatiously up.
“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” it said, ignoring Dean. “You made sure you were Daddy’s only hope.”
“Hope for what?” Dean knew as well as Sam that they wouldn’t get a real answer, but sometimes even lies were informative.
“Lilith,” the demon said. “She’s coming for him, and for you. Enemy of my enemy and all that. So can’t we just all get along?”
Sam knew the name and the legend. “And I’m supposed to fight Lilith when Azazel can’t,” he said, not hiding his skepticism. He found it hard to imagine that his powers would amount to much against an original—maybe the very first—demon.
“Well, you could just soften her up for him to take down. I’m pretty sure he’s cool with that. But the point is: Lilith has you on her Most Wanted list, and that’s not a great place to be without friends. So now’s the time to kiss and make up. Azazel will even guarantee the safety of your brother and your lover—since he’s a twofer and all.”
Sam’s hand clenched and the demon gurgled, but that didn’t stop the shame washing over Dean’s face. “You’re going to need more juice!” the demon choked out. “What you’ve got isn’t enough to stop her.”
“And you’ve got more to give him,” Dean said. “What’s the price?”
The demon stared at Sam. “Azazel’s blood was the trigger. But that was years ago. You need more blood.” Slowly, it lowered the host’s arms, turning one so that it was offering him its wrist. “The unholy sacrament. The only thing that can make you strong enough to destroy an ancient like Lilith.”
“Okay,” Dean growled, “that’s enough.” He began to spit out the exorcism. Sam didn’t interrupt the recitation, ignoring the demon’s howls. He remembered stealing Azazel’s power for himself when he’d shot John with the Colt; that hadn’t involved any blood, but he could see how the transfer might be more effective with a physical medium. It didn’t seem to make sense that demon power could be stronger when transferred to a human, except that magic didn’t follow the laws of physics, and sometimes you got strange results when you crossed boundaries. Human/demon was a pretty serious boundary; Sam’s existing powers (and those of his dead quasi-brothers and sisters) were evidence enough of that.
Not that Sam was going to step in and save this demon to test out the theory. Azazel was crude enough to have pumped the demon full of heroin, or something worse. If he did experiment, it would be with a subject of his own choosing. And only after Dean agreed.
****
“But I already drank demon blood, and I’m not evil,” Sam argued. “Not any more, I mean.”
Dean’s unimpressed face was pretty quelling, Sam decided. “I’m with you on worrying about Lilith, Sammy. Nobody thinks she’s good news. But the whole thing stinks, and I don’t just mean sulfur.”
“They nearly got you this time, Dean.” It was Sam’s best argument, not because Dean had any concern for his own safety but because Dean had an inkling of how far Sam would go to save him. On the downside, Dean hated thinking of himself as a potential hostage, and Sam could look forward to half an hour of begging if he wanted to get laid tonight—feeling too fragile, Sammy, you don’t know what might hurt me, until Sam would be sorely tempted to use the TK in unapproved and pornographic ways. But Sam could trade momentary gratification for long-term security. “How long until we’re both distracted at just the right time? How long until they use somebody you saved, maybe, to set a trap we can’t get out of?”
Low blow, but he saw Dean feeling the truth of it. “If that’s the problem,” Dean said slowly, “then supercharging your battery’s not going to do enough. You’re still just you, and as awesome as that is, you ain’t an army.”
Sam cocked his head. “Sure, but where are we going to get an army? Pretty sure I can’t whammy anyone else with powers, even if you’re okay with that now,” but Dean was already shaking his head.
“I’ve been talking with Bobby,” Dean said. “What do you know about angels?”
Sam blinked. “Angels haven’t walked the earth in centuries, Dean. Not non-fallen ones, anyway.”
“Yeah, but Lilith hasn’t either, right? Might be time for a comeback.”
Sam sat down on the motel bed, which still smelled like Dean. “You’re saying … we should try to make an alliance with angels? Wouldn’t the whole gay incest thing be kind of smiteworthy?”
Dean scoffed, but again there was that flash of guilt, which Sam just knew was more about Dean not feeling entitled to having anything good for himself than anything else. “First of all, half of Genesis is close relatives fucking, kinda by definition. Second of all, there’s got to be at least one of the feathery bastards who really, really wants to take Lilith down. And it sure seems like you’ve got the mojo for that, at least if we get the right intel. Demons aren’t the only ones who can figure out ‘enemy of my enemy.’”
Sam examined Dean. He seemed perfectly serious. It was a bold move, putting a whole new set of players on the table. From what Father—Azazel—had said, angels had factions just like humans and demons, and maybe that wasn’t entirely trustworthy but it wasn’t out of line with what the sacred texts said. Not that he’d trust Dean’s safety to anyone else, but it wouldn’t be bad to have allies.
“All right,” he said. “So just exactly how do we summon ourselves an angel?”
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