Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Same Coin, Different Side

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: Just weeks after her resurrection Buffy receives a visitor who understands her pain and needs her help.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Buffy-Centered(Moderator)AvaFR1322,57816398,08419 Nov 0910 Mar 10Yes

Foresworn and Hellfire

Title :: Foresworn and Hellfire
Rating :: FR13
Word Count :: 1400
Disclaimer :: ‘Imagine’ was written by John Lennon.

Summary :: He made a lady a promise.

Illustration
Artwork created by the ever talented FaithUnbreakable.


Foresworn and Hellfire


Something hard and unyielding dragged him backwards and Dean jerked, stumbling back a step and caught himself on a counter. He held onto it, the solid reassurance that he was no longer trapped in a dying garden in twenty-fourteen before his eyes opened, frantically searching his surroundings until the inkling that he was no longer in the future—a future screwed six ways to Sunday because Sam had said yes to that dickwad Lucifer—took hold and just as suddenly another dickwad, perhaps one even larger then Lucifer himself, stood in front of him.

“Oh, well if,” he paused, pushing past the quaver in his voice to finish with, “if it isn’t the ghost of Christmas Screw You.”

“Enough,” Zachariah’s head inclined, gray brows rising before he added, “Dean, enough.”

A stubble covered jaw thrust forward, green eyes narrowing as Dean shot the asshole across from him a glare that quickly turned skyward as the light above them flickered. He took a step away from the counter lining the wall of his motel room, that he hadn’t seen in three days, putting himself closer to Zachariah—not necessarily the brightest thing. Lightning arched outside the window, drawing both their gazes and Dean flinched as it was followed rapidly by a crack of thunder that shook the windowpane and for a brief moment he could feel the power of it in his fillings.

Silence settled over the room, over them before it was broken by the slow knock of boots against wood, making their way down the hall towards the room. A woman’s voice seeped into the room as well, softly singing, “Imagine there’s no heaven. It’s easy if you try.

The door leading to the hallway began to shake, the deadbolt rattling, and Dean stepped back, away from Zachariah’s reaching hand. “We need to leave!”

Shooting him a glare out of the corner of his eye, Dean kept his focus trained on the door and found himself wishing desperately for the Colt, or hell, even Ruby’s knife. He stiffened when the deadbolt spun, unlocking the door and the shaking ceased as the door yawned its way open and the woman’s voice continued with, “No hell below us. Above us only sky.

Her head cocked, long blonde hair slipping over the shoulders of the worn leather jacket covering her upper body as she crossed the threshold and into the motel room. Dean frowned, taking in the petite frame covered in tight jeans and scuffed cowboy boots as she strolled closer, her mouth curing into a satisfied smile that was all for the dickwad beside him. “Oh, hello, Zachariah.”

“You two know each other?” the disbelief in his voice had the woman, or whatever, turning her considering gaze on him.

“Dean Winchester.” His name was more statement, then question so he remained silent as she took a step forward, smile spreading wider.

Zachariah was simply in front of him and Dean stumbled back, frowning at the back of his balding head even as the pain in his ass snarled, “I will not let you harm him.”

The line between his brows deepened as the nagging sense that he was missing something, something freaking huge, took hold and he heard the woman laugh. “Him? I’m not here to harm him, Zachariah.”

“Then why—”

Her voice cut over the other angel’s, soft and determined as she stated, “I made a lady a promise.” She was simply beside them, slightly behind Zachariah and her hand curved over Dean’s shoulder and the weight of it drove him to his knees, left him staring up at her as Zachariah spun around to face them. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten this face.”

Dean attempted to rise and the hand on his shoulder increased its pressure as he stated, voice more certain then he felt, “Lucifer.”

A pointed chin dipped, blonde hair falling forward to crowd pixy-like features as that knowing gaze settled on Dean’s upturned face. “I am, but do you know who she is,” her head inclined as she conceded, “was?” Dean found himself humming the first few bars of Aerosmith’s ‘Dude, Looks Like a Lady’ as Lucifer quirked a brow at him before raising her-his-screw it-her head so that she met Zachariah’s gaze, but her words, the exposition was all for Dean.

“Tell us, Zachariah. What seal did you break?” Dean stiffened under Lucifer’s hold and without warning the grip on his shoulder tightened and Lucifer’s head turned, stared directly at the empty space beside them and stated, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Castiel.”

The space Dean found himself turning towards was suddenly filled with his ticket out of this craze-ass situation, but Castiel was staring at Lucifer with something close to horror twisting his usually stoic features into a grimace. “What have you done?”

Castiel’s question was directed towards Zachariah who turned his narrowed stare on a subordinate that had chosen humanity over his own kind. “I did what had to be done!”

“You allowed her to fall!” Castiel took a step forward, his voice dragged low with fury.

“I raised her when no one else could—”

“Not could,” Lucifer interjected, brows rising, “would.”

A hand suddenly gripped Dean’s right shoulder, jerking him away from Lucifer’s grasp and up against Castiel’s chest as Zachariah lunged forward and palm slapped the devil’s chest. Her head snapped back, body shaking with the impact before her head rolled to the side and back up and Zachariah’s eyes widened. “I suppose you thought I’d be burning to ash right’a’bout now, huh?”

Her hand rose to settle gently on Zachariah’s shoulder and Dean stepped forward, as if to help, but a hand to his chest stopped him. He turned to see Castiel’s gaze fixed on Lucifer, jaw tense and eyes narrowed as he watched, unwilling to help either side at the moment. Dean stiffened when he heard Lucifer whisper, “I guess someone doesn’t have your back anymore,” before he turned, watched Zachariah’s head fall back and light spear through his opened mouth as a ragged scream was thrown towards the ceiling.

Smoke billowed from beneath the clean lines of his business suit as his skin began to blacken and crack, falling away in chunks to shatter into ash against the wood floor before the scream ended as abruptly as it had began and Zachariah fell to dust.

Lucifer’s hand lowered to her side and she wiped it absently against her jeans before she turned, caught Dean’s gaze and smiled, “One down, God to go.” A shrug lifted a shoulder as she explained, “I did make a lady a promise after all.”

Dean took a halting step forward, snarling, “You son of a bitch!” and found himself suddenly outside. He spun, taking in the heavy taste of rain on the air and Castiel at his side before he looked toward the night sky, blanketed by a layer of clouds. His shoulders dropped in defeat, a hand rising to cover the lower half of his face, drag it downward before he turned to Castiel, looked him in the eye and asked, “What the hell was that?”

“That,” Castiel paused, gaze rising before it fell on Dean and he continued, “was nothing good.”

“You’re tellin’ me? You let Lucifer kill Zachariah! Granted I couldn’t stand the sonofabitch but what the hell, Cas?”

“Zachariah brought this end onto himself.”

Dean frowned, focused on the tell Castiel had just given by failing to meet his gaze and asked, “Who was Lucifer wearing?”

Castiel gave a slow blink before he turned, met Dean’s gaze and stated, “You were raised from hell—”

“Yeah, I know that—”

Castiel ignored Dean’s interruption and finished, “She fell from grace.”

“Grace?” The line between Dean’s brows smoothed as realization struck and he stared at Castiel in surprise. “As in heaven?”

“Yes.”

The all too familiar ache that came on after a particularly trying conversation with an angel began to make itself known at the base his skull and Dean turned away from Castiel, from a conversation he knew he had to have and instead pulled out his cell to dial Sam. He’d talk with Sam and they’d talk to Castiel and figure out what the hell this new development meant and how they could possible, if at all, use it to their advantage.

After he talked to Sam.

After he saved his brother.

The end.


Note :: I know I stated that the previous story was a one shot but this plot bunny grabbed my muse and wouldn’t let go until she was written. I hope you enjoyed it.

The End

You have reached the end of "Same Coin, Different Side". This story is complete.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking