Demons Run

Lucifer’s army storms toward you in ugly plumes of dark smoke.

What does he want?

“He wants you, of course,” Demon 1 croons, suddenly standing before you in a dark suit and tie.

Soon the other demons appear before you in human form, each eyeing you like a piece of meat. Obviously, Lucifer has some sordid plan up his sleeves.

“He’s a fool if he thinks I’ll work with him,” you snarl. “Leave, or I’ll throw you into the Empty.”

Demon 2 is suddenly by your side, leaning close to whisper in your ear. “You don’t have the guts to do that. You know it. We all know it.” Her wicked voice sends icy pinpricks down the side of your neck and into your back.

Demon 1 stands by the door of the bunker, now. “Open this door, [Y/N].”

“Why the hell would I do that?” You step away from 2 and glare at her, daring her to come near you again. Her beady eyes flash black as a wicked smile curls up her face.

“We just want to talk,” Demon 3 or maybe 4 (you can’t keep track of these little shits) is trying to be coy.

“To Sam Winchester,” says another.

"Pass,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and standing your ground. Five demons wouldn’t normally make you uncomfortable, but things have changed. You’re not sure you could take them on, but you can’t let them know that.

“We know where the other Winchester is,” Demon 2 says, taunting you. “Come with us. Dean needs you.”

“We’ll show you.”

Dean, you think. Your heart quickens at the mention of his name.

“We’ll take you to him,” Demon 1 says, now directly in front of you. These little bastards move fast. “On one condition.”

You scoff, “Of course.”

“Relinquish your status to Lucifer,” 1 says, his low voice drawing icy fingers down your spine.

“Lucifer?” You say.

Now all five are standing in a circle around you. They’ve got you right where they want you: find Dean again, or keep the power of Death out of Lucifer’s hands...

“No.” The circle closes in on you. You lock eyes with 1.

“You answered far too quickly,” he says. “You need time to think this through. You see, Dean doesn’t have much time left. And, well, if you’re not around, who’s to stop your right-hand gal from tossing him into the very place you fear the most?”

“Especially when his feelings for you are so strong,” says 2. “I think it’s my favorite love story ever.”

They’re trying to get under your skin. Your heart flutters at the thought of Dean actually being in love with you, too, but this... this is dangerous. Your mouth feels dry. “No,” you say again, but this time your voice falters because it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to say. Your eyes sting with tears; to be so close to finally seeing Dean again... Only to fail him one last time. I’m so sorry, Dean, you think as a tear slips down. You tell yourself you’re doing the right thing.

“Oh, [Y/N],” 2 says. “Wrong answer, sweetheart.”

You suddenly feel pressure from all sides like some invisible force is closing in on you, squeezing the air from your lungs. One look at their eyes and you know it’s too late; they already know you’re weak.

“Stop,” you demand, breathlessly, as you struggle to stay upright on your feet. Whatever they’re doing to you - you can’t escape. You can’t disappear. You’re locked in this place, and this moment, trapped under their oppressively dark auras, and you’ve never been more afraid in your life.

They can kill you because you fell in love.

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but still you refuse to break eye contact with number 1. There’s a darkness inside him that chills you to the depths of your soul. They’re trying to break you, but you’re more stubborn than they are.

Dean’s within reach, but you can’t go to him. Not when the cost is something so reckless and stupid. ‘Doesn’t have much time left’..? What does that mean? You call for Billie, praying she will come. Your breaths are shorter and shorter as they continue to press in on you, towering above you with their black eyes glinting with glee over your suffering. Ice cold shards of pain shoot through your chest, your hips, your legs, your shoulders...

Clenching your jaw, you struggle against them but it’s more than you can bear. Your knees buckle and you crumple in on yourself in more pain than you’ve ever experienced. Even now, with all you have been through, you can’t muster up enough anger to fight back. Your fight is gone. You’ve had more life than you deserved; maybe it’s time to go.

Any moment now your bones will give and crack. The last shallow breaths have become fewer and far between, and soon there will be no more. But you’ll never hand these powers over to Lucifer, not even for one last chance to see Dean. And you’re ready. At least you can do this one last, good thing, even though it means you’ll never have the chance to tell him. Because he’ll know. He’ll know what you did, and that’s enough.

You’re lightheaded and dizzy, and Billie is still nowhere in sight - not that you expected her to show. When you finally cry out in agony, it only makes them press in harder. At last, you close your eyes because you don’t want the last thing you ever see to be the face of a demon. So you shut them out and think of Dean, and Sam, and the good times - though few - you had with them. Jonah’s sweet face fills your mind... the way he looked before they stole him from you. Sounds are muffled, now. Everything around you sounds so far away. You think of your Mom and Dad who think you’re already gone... They’ve moved on with their lives. Without you. God, you miss them. What you wouldn’t give for one last hold of your mom’s hand...

“GAAHH!” The scream echoes through your mind, almost as if you are underwater. Is it a memory? Or is it real? It didn’t come from you. Couldn’t have. You can’t tell the difference, and you’re so sleepy.

“[Y/N]!”

A bright, white-yellow flash of light breaks through the images in your mind. Then another. Chaos ensues around you as the cacophony gradually becomes crisp and clear... and loud.

The pressure drops... Cool air rushes into your lungs but it feels like steely knives.

Scuffling. More white-yellow. Fighting, struggling. White-yellow. White-yellow. “Cas!” White-yellow.

And then, it’s quiet; the only sounds you hear are the heavy breaths coming from Sam and Castiel. “[Y/N]?!” Sam is suddenly next to you, on his knees, gripping your shoulders.

“Is she-?”

“I don’t know, Cas!” He spats and lifts you into his arms. “[Y/N], please,” he whispers.

Your head rolls to the side, still heavy from the lack of oxygen. Perhaps your predecessor had no need for air, but you still do. You try to open your eyes; you want to open them, to look at him and tell him you’re okay, but your eyelids won’t obey your command. You hear everything around you loud and clear, but you can’t see, and you can’t speak.

“Cas, can you... Can you heal her?“he begs.

“Sam, I don’t think that’s a-”

“Damnit Cas!” Sam shouts, his grip on you tightening. “Fix her! I can’t let Dean down again. Not like this.” And his voice breaks.

You feel his pain, radiating outward from his soul. He still tortures himself over the death of their friend, Charlie. You never met her; she was gone long before you came into their lives. Clear as day you can feel the toll her loss took on him, but it goes deeper than that. It wasn’t just Charlie he lost that night; he lost a little bit of Dean, and a little bit of himself, too.

Warmth floods through you, filling your body with calming energy. Soon you realize the source of the heat; the Angel has put aside his grudge with you... for Dean.