#just WAIT til i get to go to europe my mind is gonna explode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewnchstrs · 6 years

Text

The Vessel

Pairing: none

Disclaimers: none

Word count: 9.3K

A/N: Okay so this isn’t actually the first episode with Casifer but it was the first one that Sam and Dean found out Cas was possessed so there was a little bit more to work with. If you had a different episode for this fic in mind let me know and I’ll write it for you!!

Masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N and Sam sat in the same spot they were in the night before: hunched over books and piles of papers in the kitchen, their eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

Dean entered the kitchen, just past 8AM, rolling the sleeves of his shirt, eyeing the two at the table as he reached for the coffee pot.

“We’re all out,” Sam said, not even looking at his brother. Even with this, Dean held the pot over his empty cup before clambering it back into its dock on the counter.

“There was a half a bag yesterday.”

“We killed it,” Y/N said, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands before handing Dean her empty cup who took it exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, did you know the Nazis had a special branch devoted to archaeology?” Sam asked, looking up from his book for the first time.

“A little early for Nazi trivia,” Dean said, rummaging through the fridge, “Especially without caffeine.”

“It was called the ‘Ahnenerbe.’” Sam said, reading from the book, expertly reading the German, “There were sites all over Germany, and then as the Nazis increased their territory, they started popping up in- in Poland, Finland, North Africa-”

“Yeah, how is this more important than our coffee situation?” Dean asked, throwing the milk he’d just sniffed back into the fridge, shutting it angrily as he ran a hand down his face.

“Drama queen,” I muttered under my breath.

“’Cause Y/N and I found something. I mean, we need something- magic, a weapon strong enough to give us a shot against Amara.”

Sam was right. Our chances of bringing Amara down empty handed were just as slim as Dean actually giving a rat’s ass this early in the morning. I watched as he picked the coffee pot up once again, this time opening it as he peered inside, as if making sure we truly were out of coffee.

“So I’ve been looking outside the lore in history,” Sam went on, flipping the pages of the book in front of him. “And I found this, uh, ‘The Vichy Memorandums’.”

“The Nazi communications?” I asked, the information perking my interest.

“Yeah,” Sam’s eyebrows cinched together in confusion and shock, “You heard of ‘em?”

“They came up in my research too. Go on.”

“Well, they puzzle historians to this day, and they speak of a super weapon obtained by the Ahnenerbe, said to be strong enough to win the war.”

I raised my eyebrows at this, shooting a glance to Dean who was rubbing his eyes, “Yeah? What was it?”

“Well, uh, these memos refer to it as ‘The Hand Of God.’ I mean, that was sort of a catchall term for several objects he touched on Earth in biblical times and, get this,” Sam said, eyes wide, “they’re believed to contain traces of his power.”

Dean seemed more than unimpressed as he pushed off from the counter he’d been leaning against, “Yeah, well, the Nazis believed a lot of things.”

“Dean, Lucifer’s caged,” I began, not sure how he didn’t see this as an opportunity for us to finally have something that could potentially defeat Amara. “God’s M.I.A. the only beings strong enough to battle Amara are gone. I’m sorry, Dean but I’m with Sam on this one. If we’re gonna fight her, what better way to arm up than with an actual dose of his power?”

Dean sighed, thinking about it, letting a beat pass before he approached the table, plopping down on the bench seat next to me, “Okay, so you said the Nazis got their hands on one of these, uh...’hands’.”

“Right.”

“Well, if it was so powerful it could win them the war, why didn’t it?” He reached across the table, snatched Sam’s cup from where it sat. He threw his head back, desperate for just a drop of caffeine, bringing it away disappointed.

“Because they lost it,” I said, now reading from the book in front of me. “En route to Berlin, it was stolen. The Nazis searched high and low for the thief, but they never found their prime suspect: Delphine Seydoux.” I pushed the book into the middle of the table, the picture of Delphine staring back up at us. “She was a french mistress to a high-ranking Nazi, thought to be a french traitor ‘til she killed her German lover and made off with the weapon.”

“The Hand of God?”

“The Hand of God,” I confirmed, nodding.

“Allied spy? French resistance?” Dean asked.

“That’s what the Nazis thought, but their investigation led them to a different conclusion- that she was ‘un femme de lettres.’“ I watched them expectantly, waiting for them to catch on, Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for the translation. I sighed, “A woman of letters.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Castiel held the green tablet in one hand, using his others to fight off the aliens on the screen, poking and prodding each one until they exploded into a thin sheen of dust. The music from the game like an old arcade played loudly in the all concrete room.

Numerous demons stood before him, their hands crossed waiting for orders, but Castiel continued to sit, one leg thrown over the other on his throne. They’d have to wait until he was ready to talk.

The demons stood, looking at each other in silent conversation as to not disturb Castiel, or, Lucifer, he now was. The group elected one of the demons, a young, scrawny one that was newest to the job. They’d convinced him it would get him a promotion when in reality, everybody knew how this would end.

The demon slowly made his way to the front of the group, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke, “Uh, sir? Would you like to hear the latest soul numbers?”

“No, because I don’t care.” Lucifer said simply, not bothering to look up from his screen.

The demon looked back to his coworkers who egged him on, nodding their heads in the direction of their new King. The demon cleared his throat, “How about an update on Amara?” Instantly, the noises from the game quieted as Lucifer looked up at the group. The demon shifted on his feet nervously as he continued, “Well, the update is, well that there is no update. We still haven’t found her.”

“Sir, if I may,” another demon began, she walked forward in front of the group, hoping to save the situation. “Since you’ve claimed the throne, we could use some direction. Any direction. We could deploy a force. Real boots on the ground, shake the trees to find her-”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, obviously uninterested at her attempts to make him communicate with them on something he really could care less about. He clicked the tablet back to life, the noise of the game filling the room once again.

“...W-with you leading the charge, of course.” She continued, “We have had a coward and a fool at the helm for too long-” From the other side of the room could be heard muffled groans from their previous King who found himself to be in a pretty...tight situation. “Perhaps it’s time to-”

Lucifer held a finger up to the demon, looking in the direction of where Crowley was caged. “Doggie wants to speak.”

A gate was rolled open, the platform Crowley was secured to, pushed out into the open, his hands a feet bound to chains.

“How dare you.” Crowley snarled to the demons, “The impudence. The lack of humility. That’s no way to talk to your master...Lucifer.”

Lucifer smiled, “That’s a good doggie.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Who knew the Men of Letters had European chapters?” Dean said, pulling a large book from one of the numerous shelves in the library.

“Maybe it wasn’t an entire chapter,” Sam suggested from the other side of the room, balancing a number of books in his arms that Y/N continued to pull from the shelves. Everything they could possible need to know about the Hand of God had to be somewhere in one of these books. “Just some assets, you know?”

“Yeah, and letting women join way back in the ‘40s?” Dean asked to which Y/N shot him a look over her shoulder, warning him to watch what he was about to say. “I just never got the impression that they were so big on gender equality, that’s all. You know, it’s right there in the name: The Men of Letters.”

“Well, it was World War 2,” Y/N said. “Kind of an all-hands-on-deck situation, you know?”

“Yeah, Rosie the Riveter,” Dean said, smiling to himself. “Cool.”

“Here you go.” Sam said, reading from one of the books, “This report was written by Clifford Henshaw, a bunker-based Man of Letters back in 1943. It’s the right era.” Sam carried the book to one of the tables in the middle of the room, setting it down with a large thud. “But it’s in French.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/N scanned the pages of the book, a blue light emitting from the long device. The door behind her opening and then closing, Dean’s voice echoing through the room, “Well?”

“So it’s definitely about Delphine,” I said, reading the words that were coming up on the computer screen, the French quickly being translated into English. Sam stood over my shoulder, taking notes. “Her name’s at the top of every page. And check this out.”

Dean sat beside me, sliding the papers in front of him, “What are these?”

“Transcriptions,” Sam said, his eyes bouncing between the computer screen and the notebook in his hands. “From transatlantic cables between Clifford and Delphine.”

“What do they say?”

“Give me a second,” Sam clicked through the translations, “web translation’s kind of buggy.”

Dean nodded, taking a drink from the beer resting between his fingers, “Seriously Dean?” Y/N said, eyeing the bottle. “It’s like, noon.”

“Yeah, well you and Sasquatch drank all the coffee, so what am I supposed to drink? Water?”

“Look at this,” Sam slid the laptop in between Dean and I, pointing at the screen full of translated words. “They were making arrangements to get the artifact out of Europe to keep it safe. Uh, Henshaw pulled some strings with a Man of Letters in the O.S.S. to requisition an active U.S. submarine to transport Delphine and the weapon back to the states...back to here.”

“Wait, the bunker?”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s been here the whole time?” Y/N questioned. “Don’t tell me all of this was for nothing-”

Sam quickly typed something neither Dean nor Y/N could explain before pressing enter, an article about the USS Bluefin popping up with a picture of a large ship.

“No.” Sam said, shaking his head as he read the article, “Never arrived. Uh, the U.S.S. Bluefin came under German attack midway through its trip across the Atlantic. The sub was sunk.” Sam quickly tapped for the next page, this time, a black and white picture of a man in a US uniform popped up. “The ship and its contents haven’t been recovered to this day.”

Sam ran a hand down his tired face, closing the laptop in frustration.

“Great.” Y/N nodded, feeling more defeated than ever. “It’s lost.”

“Or is it?” Dean asked, eyeing the two of them.

“Well, yeah, I’d say so.” Sam said, gesturing to the closed laptop.

“It couldn’t have made it out of there,” Y/N shook her head, recalling what the article had said, “I mean, tides took the wreckage. Submersibles have been trying to locate it for years. I mean, if James Cameron and his “Avatar” billions can’t find it-”

“Yeah, but...we have something that James Cameron doesn’t have.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The weaponry Lucifer had requested was rolled into the room on a large cart, the spears and swords dangerously sticking out in mid air. Lucifer stood from his throne, careful not to step on Crowley who was seated at the foot of his chair, his hands and feet still bound.

Lucifer reached for one of the spears, sighing deeply. “That’s all of it?”

“Yes, sir. The requested weaponry from your crypts.” The demon said, eyeing Lucifer as he examined the spear in his hand. “Does it...please you?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes before turning on his heels, “Spare me.”

Lucifer gestured for the demons to leave the room, leaving only him and Crowley who couldn’t even look into Lucifer’s eyes without shaking profusely.

“How are your wounds, doggie?” Lucifer mocked after the door behind the last demon had closed. He turning the spear in his hands.

“They are...no less than I deserve.” Crowley muttered, choosing his words carefully as Lucifer scratched the top of his head, making him wince in pain.

“Aww,” Lucifer chuckled, obviously enjoying every minute of this, “You’re scared of your master. That’s a good doggie.” Lucifer continued to rub Crowley’s head before yanking him back by his ear. “But it’s an act. I broke you, but, um...yep! I can still smell it, you’ve got that delectable little whiff of defiance. You’re just playing, huh?”

Lucifer tugged harder at Crowley’s ear. “You’re just waiting for your moment to retake the throne. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucifer let off of Crowley’s ear, “Well, then...tell me, uh, once and future, King of Hell,” he laughed as he mocked him, “you’ve been watching my rule. What treasonous thoughts do you have brewing in that little head of yours, huh?” He waited a beat and when Crowley didn’t speak he lightly toed him in the side, “What are you really thinking hmm?”

Crowley sighed, knowing that if he wanted to get this over with that he’d have to play at his games. “The truth, sir?”

“Yeah.”

Crowley turned slightly to look up at who he once knew as Castiel- the Winchester’s best friend, who was now the person he feared most. “You’re not strong enough.” Lucifer listened in interest, watching his every move, “You’ve had your weapons delivered. You realize they won’t be enough. If you thought you could be Amara, you’d be taking the fight to her...right now.”

A beat passed before Lucifer reached out a hand, making Crowley flinch away only to have Lucifer pat his shoulder, “You’re a clever little doggie. You’re right. At the moment, I-I may be a bit underequipped. Maybe defeating Amara was a bit more of a team effort than I led certain people to believe. You know, all that said...” Lucifer lifted Crowley’s face using the spear so his eyes would meet his, “I’m still your master. Did I let you out of that kennel too soon?”

Crowley held back his fear as he whispered his answer, praying to God he wouldn’t be subject to the small cage again, “No.”

A ringing came from inside the pocket of Lucifer’s trench coat. Keeping the spear tucked under Crowley’s chin, he picked up the phone, examining the contact that flashed on the screen. “No barking. It’s showtime.”

Lucifer released the pressure of the spear off of Crowley’s neck as he returned to his seat on the throne, accepting the call as he held it up to his ear, managing his best Cas voice, “Hello, Dean.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“There were several God-touched objects, but it never occurred to me that any had survived the flood, let alone the 20th century.” Lucifer said, looking at the pictures that Sam, Dean and Y/N had taped to the walls. Lucifer kept his voice low to fool them into thinking Cas was still, indeed, Cas.

“Do you think we can use it against Amara?” Sam asked.

“It’s perfect,” Lucifer said, mainly to himself. Sam, Y/N and Dean glanced at each other, waiting for him to go on. “I can get you back there.”

“Without wings?” Y/N questioned, her eyebrows cinched together. “Cas, you can’t even teleport.”

Y/N was right. The fall of the angels had done a number on Cas.

Lucifer thought quickly for an excuse before turning on his heels, “Time travel is a whole different system.”

Dean snapped his fingers, “Told ya.”

Lucifer began flipping through a packet that had been stapled to the drawing board. “So, uh, these the last coordinates?”

“That’s the Bluefin’s last transmission to shore, yeah.”

“Alright-”

“Wait a second,” Sam began, still not too thrilled on the idea of time travel. “Cas, aren’t there still risks with time travel? I mean, aren’t there consequences that could create, I don’t know, a ripple effect?”

“Sam’s right,” Y/N nodded, “So many things can go wrong-”

Dean brought his hand down onto the tabletop, turning to Sam and Y/N. “Hey. This is the ideal scenario.”

“What?”

“That sub’s a tin can floating in the middle of the ocean, doomed to go down. You can’t really mess with history at 20,000 leagues.” Y/N listened though she didn’t agree. Her eyes traveled up to Lucifer who watched the exchange intently, something putting her off about the way he smirked at the argument unfolding. “So we get in, get the weapon, get out. It’s a milk run.”

“Well, that’s not a very good plan,” Sam argued.

“Well, if things get out of hand, then Cas’ll just zap me right back.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say that would make Dean realize how bad of an idea this was turning out to be. Y/N thought about what Dean had just said, throwing it around in her brain. “You?”

Dean paused, realizing he’d just revealed the big kicker to the plan. “You two ain’t going.”

“I beg your pardon-” Sam started, leaning in close to his brother before Dean cut him off.

“You need to stay here.”

“Stay here?!”

“Just in case things go sideways, at least two of us need to be left standing to take care of the darkness.” Dean shook his head, already dead set on the idea. “We can’t risk the three of us, and at the moment, I’m the least valuable player. You both know that I can’t kill Amara, so the least I could do is get the thing that we need so that you can!”

“So you expect us to sit here and ride the pine while you and Cas go play Jules Verne?”

“Yes!...No. Uh, who?” Dean said, confused.

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” Lucifer said, instantly putting Y/N on edge. There was something very wrong going on here.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. Y/N could practically feel how torn he was, “You’ll stay by his side the entire time?-”

“Now wait,” Y/N said, holding a hand out to Sam, not believing his was allowing this. “You can’t be serious. Dean can’t go- I’ll do it.”

“Y/N, stop-” Dean tried, rubbing his eyes.

“No, Dean! I-” I sighed, not sure how to put this lightly, “You can’t die out there. Okay? You can’t. This world...it needs you, Dean. It needs you to kill Amara. This world will go on without me if this plan goes haywire-”

“I said, stop, Y/N!” Dean nearly shouted, his face becoming red. “I will not let you sacrifice yourself for a mess I have to clean up. I won’t let you think this world doesn’t need you as much it needs Sam and I, alright? We’ve lost too many people and I’ll be damned if we lose you too.”

I sat back in my chair, silence settling over us like a blanket.

“Let me do this,” Dean said, leaning over the table. “I need to do this.”

“Be safe.”

“When am I not?” Dean questioned, eliciting scoffs from Sam and I. “Let’s do this, Cas.” Dean stood from the table, Lucifer coming to stand next to him. “Bon Voyage.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One second, Dean was standing in front of Sam and Y/N in the bunker, the next, he found himself in small confines, the only light coming from a single hanging light bulb.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, a snore coming from one of the bunks next to him, startling him into a corner. “Cas?”

The boat swayed from side to side, making Dean uneasy on his feet. He searched the room for Cas, hoping he’d made it on board.

Heavy footfalls began coming toward the closed door ahead of Dean, making him drop to the floor and roll under the set of bunks to his right, holding his breath as they entered the room.

“See, I enlisted to sink German ships.” A man said, pushing the heavy door open, a white towel resting over his shoulders. “You’re up.” Using the towel, he smacked the sleeping shipmate. Another man in uniform followed the first one.

“Let’s go. Vacation’s over.” The man with the towel said. Dean watched from between the bed posts. “Now we got zip running patrols in the bay. Now Captain’s got us going the wrong direction? To run some mystery mission for some broad? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Get some rest.”

“You know I can’t rest.”

Dean watched from under the bunks the feet of the soldiers on board as they climbed into their sleeping quarters. He scanned the room, wondering just how long he’d have to be in here when he spotted a red marking on the wall ahead of him. He cinched his eyebrows, focusing on the symbol in hopes it would help him find the Hand of God.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam held the open book in his hands, staring at the picture of a drawing of the Bluefin, trying to imagine his brother on board.

Y/N kept her worries at bay by scrolling through her phone, trying to keep every bad thought about how horrible of an idea this time travel mission was. However, there was still something in the back of Y/N’s mind that had been bugging her. “Sam?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, not looking up from the book.

“Have you noticed anything strange...about Cas?”

Sam looked up to Y/N now, thinking hard about the last few hours. “I mean, no, not really-”

As if on cue, the entrance to the bunker door was pulled open, a loud squeak of rusty hinges catching the attention of Y/N and Sam, looking up from their distractions.

Water sloshed over the metal stairs, squeaking in Lucifer’s shoes as he slowly descended down the stairs, every inch of him soaking wet.

“Cas?” Sam asked, “Why are you all wet?”

“Where’s Dean?” Y/N asked immediately, standing from her chair.

“We made the leap.” Lucifer said simply, his hair sticking to his forehead. He tried his best to sound somber even though he couldn’t have been more pleased with how his plan was unfolding. “He got on. I didn’t.”

“What?” Sam asked quietly.

Lucifer nodded, not meeting Sam’s eyes, trying to make it as believable as he could, “I couldn’t make it past the hull.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A quarter rolled out into the middle of the room, spinning until falling on its side. The soldier who’d been wearing his uniform raised his eyebrows, coming off of his bunk to pick the quarter up. He held it close to his face as he read the year. He shook his head, “1996?”

Instantly, Dean came up from under the bunk, putting the soldier in a headlock. The soldier gasped, gripping Dean’s arm in shock. “Where’s Delphine? Where’s the broad?”

“I-I-I don’t know what your talking about.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Someone must have warded the ship.” Lucifer said as he entered the library, Sam and Y/N on his heels. He threw the trench coat onto a chair, using a towel to dry his face.

“Delphine.” Sam said, “It has to be. I mean, she’s protecting the weapon, right?” Lucifer ignored him, drying his pants with the towel now. Y/N watched him in confusion at his lack of concern for Dean. “Cas. Just go back to their last port before she boarded, leave a message so Dean knows.”

Lucifer shook his head, trying to remain calm. It’s what Cas would have done. “Where? Where would Dean see it that the crew wouldn’t? He’s as likely to find the warding as he is any message I’d leave.”

“Then send me.” Sam said. Y/N’s eyes widened at this, grabbing his forearm.

“Sam, no!”

“Dean got past the hull. I have to go help him-”

“Right,” Lucifer said sarcastically, “We’ll double down on what screwed us the first time. You’re really bringing your ‘A’ ideas today.” He whipped the towel that had been around his neck as he sat at the table in the library. “I can’t believe I lost it...Him, I mean. Dean. Can’t believe I lost Dean.”

Sam glanced at Y/N, both of their eyebrows raised.

“Well, it’s up to him now to find and clear the warding,” Lucifer said, folding his hands in front of him.

“No.” Y/N shook her head, “We can help. There’s got to be something in magic or angel lore!” Sam watched Cas closer this time as he rolled his eyes, resting his head in his hands at Y/N’s words. “You know, some way to clear the sigils from the outside.”

“Cas,” Sam said as he watched Cas, mistaking his annoyance for fear. “We’ll bring him back. Don’t worry.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dean tucked his shirt into his pants as he came from the sleeping quarters and out to where the rest of the soldiers were, either sitting at round tables or working at computers. Dean made sure to keep his head low, not to make eye contact.

“Look out. Coming through,” A man called from behind Dean, coming through the small walkway with a bag of laundry. Dean pressed himself against the bunk next to him, keeping his head even lower.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“When can I smoke?” Delphine asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“When it’s your turn, I’ll let you know.” One of the soldiers said.

“Surely some of you boys take breaks in the engine room?” Delphine made her way past him and into the kitchen, one of the only few rooms she was allowed to be in.

“Captain wants you stayed put,” he said, setting a tray of food down in front of her.

“Let me guess,” Delphine smiled. “He fears I would distract his men? Does not want a skirt roaming the decks? Give me the light.” She rested the cigarette between her parted lips.

“But, ma’am, uh...You’re wearing pants.” He laughed before plucking the cigarette from her lips.

The soldier made his way back into the kitchen, nearly running into Dean. He patted him on the shoulder. “Rich, ain’t it? Frog’s sittin’ pretty like Queen of Sheba, getting room service in the wardroom. And I can’t even gripe ‘cause...well, have you seen that dame? The gams on her?”

Dean stayed pressed up against the counter, not facing the soldier. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s a hottie.” Dean chuckled, glad for some conversation he could actually follow. The soldier looked at Dean confused, but Dean counteracted what he’d just said quickly, “Yeah, those gams, huh?”

Dean continued on his way, going through to the wardroom where Delphine had pulled out another cigarette. At the sight of him, she sat forward, confused, “Who are you?”

“Delphine...You might find this hard to believe, but-”

In an instant, Delphine had sent her foot soaring through the air, straight between Dean’s legs, bringing his head slamming down onto the table before holding him at the throat against the wall. Dean groaned in pain, trying to breathe around the death grip on his jugular.

“Not a soul on this ship knows my name, so I repeat, who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Clifford Henshaw,” Dean said calmly, hoping to get her to understand. “I’m a Man of Letters.”

Delphine squinted her eyes at him as two soldiers barged into the room, the first one the one that Dean had just finished talking to, and the second was the one that Dean had put in a choke hold. “That’s him! That’s the guy, Captain.”

The first soldier pulled Delphine away, throwing her back into her seat at the table as the Captain entered the room.

Dean was forced onto the table, his hands held tightly behind his back. “He took my clothes and he hog tied me in the head, this guy.”

“What should we do with him, Captain?”

“Search him.” The Captain said, watching the scene unfold.

The soldiers began patting Dean down, feeling the sides of his uniform when he reached into Dean’s pocket, pulling out his cell phone.

“Petey, this yours?” the soldier asked, handing it off to him.

Petey examined the phone before holding it up, “What the hell is this?”

Dean sighed, knowing would take a lot of convincing. “It’s a phone.”

“Right. A phone in your pocket.” They scoffed.

“Next thing he’s going to tell us is he’s from space.” Petey laughed.

“Yeah, or the future.”

Dean glanced at the two before back down to Delphine, begging for her to understand. “I...I am.” Delphine watched him with suspicious eyes before he turned to the Captain, “Captain James Dearborn? My name is Dean Winchester, and I am on a mission from the future, the details of which I am not at liberty to discuss. But know this- within the hour, a German destroyer will find and attack this submarine, and you will go down.”

“Okay, you’ve said your piece,” The Captain said, not believing a word of Dean’s story, “now let me tell you what I think.”

Delphine whipped around to him, “Captain-”

“I think you’re a soldier that’s gone A.W.O.L. You’ve hopped a ride home, and this cockeyed story is some loony attempt to keep your cover as a civvie. That, or you’re a spy. Deciding which? I’ll leave that to the court martial.”

“I need to speak with this man alone.” Delphine tried again.

“Not a chance.” The Captain pulled a gun from his waistband, handing it over to Petey.

“Captain, there are things, things about this mission that you don’t know-”

“Flash Gordon here will remain under guard until we reach the shore.”

“Gladly.”

Delphine scoffed, frustrated that they weren’t even considering the possibility that Dean was telling the truth, “What if we don’t reach shore? What if he’s right?”

“The odds of a German attack from a surface ship, this far west, hunting down a lone submarine?-”

“Captain?” A soldier interrupted, coming from the front of the boat. He gestured his head toward a secure area to talk, the four people in the wardroom watching them.

“Sonar’s picked up a surface ship on steady bearing, closing.” He said to the Captain.

The Captain was taken aback but tried his best to hide the shock, “Understood.”

“Harris, back to your station.” The Captain said to the first soldier. “Giraldi, watch our guest.” He said to Petey, who simply nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“The Germans, they’ve come for it.” Delphine said.

Dean slid into the booth opposite of her, “Delphine, the warding on the hull? The sigil? That’s not like any I’ve seen.”

“My mentor in the Men of Letters, he taught me the symbol before he died.”

“World Series, 1944.” Petey began, talking to Dean. “Go.” Dean watched him, confused as he wanted from him. “You’re from the future. Tell me, who won?”

Dean rolled his eyes, this not being at the top of his priority list, “Um, the, uh, The Rangers.”

“The Rangers?” Petey said in confusion.

“He believed it would keep me and the artifact safe on our journey-” Delphine went on.

“Who are The Rangers?”

“-from supernatural interference.”

“And angelic interference.” Dean said, understanding why Cas hadn’t made it on board.

“Angels?” Delphine said, “They’re not real-”

“Who are The Rangers?”

“Look, kid, I don’t follow baseball, okay?” Dean said. “And, yeah, angels are real. In fact, one of them is my ride off this ship. Now look, the warding that you put up to block the magic, it must’ve blocked him, too. I cleared the one. If there’s any more, we gotta clear those, too otherwise I’m stuck here.”

“Okay, then. The next president.” Petey went on.

“Delphine, you wanted the weapon to be at a Men of Letters safe house, right? I’m from the bunker. That’s how I knew how to find you, from your communication with Henshaw. Now if you clear the way, I can get it there for you.”

“And that’s why you came,” Delphine questioned, wishing she could say she trusted him like she so desperately wanted to. “to protect the object, the weapon?”

“You gonna answer my question?” Petey asked, leaning against the wall.

Dean was beginning to become fed up, laying his hands on the table as if to ask what more he wanted of him, “Eisenhower, okay? No. uh...Truman. Now would you please shut up?” He turned back to Delphine, “No. This sub is going down. But the allies do win...But from Man of Letters to Man of Letters? I’m fighting a war in the future. It’s not like your war. It’s big. Biblical, end-is-nigh big...And I need your weapon to win. That is why I came.”

“But we all die?” Petey asked softly. Yet another question of his Dean didn’t want to answer. “Me, the girl, the rest of the crew? I’m just trying to get your story clear.”

Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw, knowing it would come down to the truth sooner or later. “Yes...Look. I know it’s a lot to ask, especially from a complete stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Delphine shook her head. “’Man of Letters to Man of Letters’. I trust you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Wait a second. I think I have something.” Sam said, reading from a book he’d been looking through for the past half an hour. “‘The spell of gathering’. It’s an incantation used to...’focus the power of celestial beings’- angels- ‘against all drawn forms of evasion’.” He brought the book over to the table next to Lucifer where he was sitting across from Y/N who hadn’t taken her eyes off him for the past twenty minutes. “The spell was designed to clear all mystical or occult blockages.”

“That’s some pretty highly theoretical magic,” Y/N said.

Sam nodded, a smile playing at his lips as the thought of getting Dean back loomed closer and closer. “Exactly. And, it’s never been used before, but it sounds like it could work.”

“Do we have the ingredients?” Y/N asked as she pushed the chair back, jogging toward the cabinets where they held most of their supplies for incantations.

Sam read off the list as Y/N quickly gathered them, but the last one threw her for a loop. She checked and double checked twice with nothing to show for it. “All but one.”

Sam sighed, “That’s why its never been used before. It requires the power of an archangel.”

He closed the book, running a hand down his face. Y/N slowly shutting the cabinets, her hands coming to rest on her hips. There had to be another way.

“Well, Sam, we may as well try.” Lucifer said, looking over to him.

“We don’t have time for long shots, Cas. Even at full power you’re not strong enough.”

As Sam stood from the chair, Lucifer balanced his options in his head before grabbing the book and opening it to the incantation to save Dean, and, most importantly to Lucifer, the Hand of God.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“That’s the Hand of God?” Dean questioned, staring at the lump of what looked like a piece of polished wood inside the wooden box Delphine had placed in front of him. “Doesn’t look like much.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. It must have been more impressive in its complete form. The Ark of the Covenant.”

Dean’s eyes slightly widened at this before a grin broke out on his face, “Oh, so full-on ‘Raiders’. That’s...okay.”

As Dean reached for it, Delphine quickly stopped him, “Don’t touch it bare handed. Its power is potent and unstable. No mortal can survive long with direct contact.” She covered it back up with the cloth it had been wrapped in before closing the latch of the box, pushing it toward Dean. “I’ll remove the warding.”

As Delphine left the room, Dean stood to leave, the box in hand as Petey pointed the gun at him, ushering Dean to sit back down, “Whoa whoa whoa! You’re not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” Dean said, choosing to pick his battles as he sat back down, hands tapping atop the box.

A beat of silence passed before Petey spoke again, “When?”

“When what?”

“When do we win? Months, years, decades? Got a lot of friends and family on other ships, in other branches. I want to know what their chances are.”

“Years,” Dean nodded, looking up at the young soldier. “1945...You believe me?”

Petey thought momentarily as if he himself still hadn’t made up his mind. “I read a lot of Flash Gordon.”

In an instant the room was swamped in a red light, the PA system crackling over the boat. “General quarters, man your battle stations. All hands, man your battle stations.”

“Okay, lets go boys, lets go!” A voice called from outside of the wardroom, Dean’s heart racing as he watching numerous soldiers run quickly toward the front of the ship.

A few beats of silence passed, the only sound coming from the commotion of the soldiers loading the weapons, muffled voices in panic before it went quiet, boat shifting downward making Dean nearly slide out of his seat.

It was so quiet Dean could hear the pipes in the ship rattling, “What’s happening-”

“Shh!” Petey shushed him, pointing upwards, signaling to Dean that the ending was coming. The German attacker was right above them. Dean could only pray Delphine had finished clearing the sigils.

As if on cue, Delphine came quietly into the room, Dean standing from his seat, ready to get out of the boat before all Hell broke loose. Instead, Delphine began unbuttoning her top, pulling it away to reveal the last sigil, engraved on her chest. She pulled a knife from behind her, handing it to Dean. “Kill me.”

“Wait,” Petey said, his eyes wide. “You can’t do that.”

Delphine glared at Petey, making him back off as she passed the knife to Dean who gently took it from her hands.

“Kill me.”

“I don’t have to kill you, okay?” Dean said, “I Can just cut it. It’ll work.”

“Not with this,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s spell bound- to my blood, my heart. Its power lives and dies with me. Do it.”

Dean held onto Delphine’s shoulder, bringing the blade to her chest, just piercing the skin as the ship was suddenly rocketed to the side followed by several more explosions, chaos erupting from the deck once again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Cas, what is that?” Sam asked, watching Lucifer as he crushed something, throwing it into a metal bowl.

“It’s your spell of gathering,” he said, adding a feather.

Y/N and Sam stared wide eyed at each other as they watched him, “Are you nuts? You’re not strong enough, Cas, you could get hurt!”

“You find a better option?” Lucifer continued cutting up ingredients, everything from a piece of brain to the spine of a rat.

“Well, no,” Sam said, “but without a serious boost of your angel power, that spell won’t even work.”

“My strength may surprise you.”

Y/N continued watching Cas, her stomach knotting as he handled the large butcher knife. “Mind explaining what you mean by that?” Lucifer stopped mid chop, glancing at Y/N. “I mean, you obviously don’t have much grace left. We know that, so, so what do you mean-”

“Wait a second,” Sam interrupted, making Y/N roll her eyes. It seemed like she couldn’t get out an entire sentence these days without somebody interjecting. “I remember Bobby told me, when you needed strength to retrieve us from the past, you used him to power up. You- you touched his soul, right?”

“That’s right. I did that. But that- that, uh, procedure...it can be fatal.”

“Use my soul.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me-”

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I have to save him, no matter what it takes.” Sam said before turning back to Lucifer. “That way, maybe you’ll have enough power to wield the spell.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“It’s worth the risk.”

“Um, no, really it’s not.” Y/N tried.

“Cas, Dean needs our help. I trust you.”

Y/N watched with wild eyes at the thought of both of them thinking this was a good idea. Her and Sam watched Lucifer, waiting for him to say something, anything, at this point.

Lucifer paused, holding a jar of green liquid before he sputtered out a laugh, nearly throwing his head back.

“I think he’s lost it,” Y/N whispered to Sam. She took a step toward Lucifer, “Is this situation funny to you?”

“Oh, it’s ju- I don’t- I don’t need you two anymore. I mean, Dean’s the one with the link to Amara, why have I been trying to spare you?” Sam and Y/N watched in confusion, both of their hearts sinking at the sight of whoever this was. Y/N knew she should’ve said something, Sam knew he should’ve listened better. “I mean maybe it’s because together, you two are like the girl who kept turning me down at the prom.”

Before they could even react, they were both thrown to separate concrete pillars, their body bound to the hard walls, grunting in pain.

Lucifer tapped his chin, sauntering between the two of them. “I will touch your souls, just because you asked so nicely. And I’ll use your spell to blast through the warding and retrieve Dean and the, uh...Hand of God.” He gestured to the table where the incantation was almost complete. “And then when Dean comes back and he finds this place decorated with your guts, I will tell him the truth! I’ll just say, ‘Dean’-” he paused, holding up a finger before making his voice much lower, Cas’ voice seeping through, “’Dean...they knew the risks. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.’”

Sam’s voice shook as he realized who it was for the first time, hoping desperately for his sake, and for Y/N’s that he was wrong. “Lucifer.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as she stared at Cas, finally understanding.

Lucifer smiled, “In the flesh...Now, who wants to go first?” He stood between Y/N and Sam, his head bouncing between the two of them before rolling up his sleeves, “Well then, how about two for the price of one, huh?”

Lucifer rested the tips of his fingers against each of their chests before pushing deep through their skin, into their flesh, past their bone. The two of them screamed, the pain like a million hot pokers digging their way through their sternums, the concrete walls of the bunker echoing their blood curdling screams.

The pain was so intense it created white spots in both of their vision but Lucifer only pushed harder, his fingertips reaching out until he felt the heat of the human soul. Quickly, he retreated his hands, Sam and Y/N quickly falling to the floor unconscious.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Petey escorted them onto the main deck, Dean making sure to hold the box containing the Hand of God close to his chest. He looked around the room, the metal door shutting behind them.

“Go ahead,” The Captain said to a man wearing headphones, switching numerous tabs until a voice came over the P.A. system.

“Hello, mein liebchen.” the voice said in a heavy German accent.

“It is not possible,” Delphine whispered to herself, “I killed you.”

“A little advice, Delphine.” The voice continued. “If you want a friend of the thule to stay dead, burn the body.” Dean listened with wide eyes, this had to be the German Nazi lover Delphine had supposedly killed. “A word for the captain. You may have noticed you are up against a warship and a crew possessing, let us say, extraordinary abilities. And you have taken damage that you cannot recover from. So I offer you a choice- surface now, relinquish the girl and her cargo, and I can assure you and your men the highest of P.O.W treatment.” Dean closed his eyes momentarily, knowing that if it were between life and death, surely, they would give up one life to save the rest.

“Or,” he went on, “you can protect her, and we will depth charge you and your boat right into the seabed and recover the cargo ourselves. You have three minutes to surrender.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Delphine said to the group, “but this cargo, the Germans can’t have it. You need to believe me.”

“Our orders were to protect you and your cargo,” the Captain said. “we wouldn’t even consider a surrender.”

“You had better reconsider.” Delphine said, turning to Dean who watched her in confusion. “Killing me is your only way off this ship.”

Dean looked down at the wooden box in his hands when an idea, so absurd and crazy he wasn’t even sure how he’d thought of it, “Maybe not. Teach me how to use it. It’s the power of God. Maybe I can use it to save you, save the sub.”

“And your war?” Delphine questioned.

“I want to help you now.”

“Two minutes, Captain.”

“You save the ship, get us to the surface, and then what? The power of God will consume you, and you’ll have merely brought the weapon closer to the Nazi’s grasp.” Delphine exhaled deeply, knowing how her story ended. “We’re supposed to die. Let us do it with a purpose.” She opened the box, turning to the crew, “How long can you keep the boat steady?”

“Not long.” the Captain admitted, “And once they resume their attack-”

“Give me every second you can.”

“Delphine, what are you doing?”

“One minute.”

“I’m going to get you home,” she said, looking up to Dean. Her fellow Man of Letters. “And I’m going to get you and your men your first German ship.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam groaned from the floor, slowly picking himself up as Lucifer fell before him, making Sam cower away from him, “No, no-”

“Sam, it’s me.” This time, the voice coming out of Cas was genuine as he struggled to regain his body.

“Cas?” Sam groaned in pain, glancing to his left where Y/N still laid unmoving on the ground, “Why?”

“I wanted to be of service to the fight,” he answered simply. “And only Lucifer can beat Amara.”

“You chose this?” Sam asked, realization hitting him, “You have to fight, Cas. Eject him now!”

“I can’t!” Cas groaned, “It’s taking all my strength to keep him from killing you guys. And besides we need him-”

“No, Cas, we don’t.” Sam said, shaking his head, checking on Y/N again. “We’ll find another way to stop Amara.”

Sam watched his friend struggle with trying to fight Lucifer off, reminding him how it was when he himself was possessed by Lucifer, how it nearly killed him inside.

Cas breathed heavily, his grip on Lucifer becoming weaker. “We need him to save Dean.”

“You can’t time travel.”

“Only Lucifer can.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“How fast is your ride back?” Delphine asked.

“Fast.”

“Good.”

“It’s time!”

Delphine pulled the Hand of God out of the box, holding it in her hands. Explosions immediately began to rock the boat, sending everyone on board flying in several different directions. Delphine slowly came to her feet, the Hand of God glowing in her palms.

The light from the Hand of God trailed up her arms, the glowing red moving to her neck then to her face until even her eyes changed color. Slowly, she turned to Dean, her eyes glowing white as she slid the Hand of God toward him. He picked it up, placing it back into the box.

Delphine’s eyes glowed so bright nobody could even catch a glimpse of them. Explosions continued to rain down on either side of the boat, panels in the control room popping down the line.

Panic filled the room once again as a fire erupted from the engine room, but Dean could only focus on Delphine who arched her back, throwing her head backwards, another bomb coming down on the bow of the ship, sending everyone flying just as-

The room finally stopped shaking, Dean’s feet finally meeting a ground that wasn’t bobbing left and right on water.

He was home.

“Dean.” Sam said, struggling on the floor. Dean looked behind him to where Y/N was holding her midsection, the palm of her hand held over her sternum.

“Dean, that’s not Cas!” Y/N shouted, her voice hoarse as she pointed to Lucifer who still had his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Slowly, Dean turned his head toward Lucifer, his eyes wide.

Lucifer smiled guiltily, “Cat’s out.” Grabbing the back of Dean’s shirt, Lucifer threw him over the library tables, knocking him to the other side of the room. “Mm! I feel a burden lifted!” Dean groaned as he rolled over onto his back, holding his side where he most definitely cracked a rib or two. “You know, this whole ‘deep cover’ thing, it just wasn’t- it wasn’t terribly well thought out.”

Sam, Dean and Y/N struggled to sit up straighter as they listened to Lucifer’s monologue.

“...Donning this...this Cas mask? This grim face of angelic constipation? Just, ugh.” he groaned dramatically. Sam slowly inched his hand toward his back pocket where he held his pocket knife. Sliding it out of his jeans expertly as he switched the blade open, cutting deep into his hand. “And then teaming up with you three? I mean...I thought you guys were insufferable as mortal enemies. But working with you? Ugh. That’s the soul crusher.”

Dean and Y/N slowly stood to their feet, buying Sam more time but were only thrown back to separate walls again, grunts of pain escaping their lips as they connected with the concrete.

“What’s with the long faces? You should be cheering. We have a common enemy! With this,” he said, holding up the Hand of God. “Amara will be no problem. I mean...I will have killed you both by then, but still...come on.”

Lucifer unwrapped the cloth surrounding the Hand of God, making the three of them stop in their tracks.

“No,” Dean said, remembering what Delphine had said about the potency of it.

“Don’t touch it with bare hands”

Her words echoed through Dean’s head just as Lucifer plucked it out of the cloth.

“No!”

Lucifer held it, gripping it tight as they watched, unable to do anything. However, the Hand of God didn’t flash bright fancy lights, it didn’t even sputter.

Lucifer’s lips twitched in anger as he looked at it, “It’s kicked.”

“Well,” Y/N said, laughing lightly. “Who’d have thought the Hand of God would turn out to be a one-hitter?”

Lucifer glared at her, throwing what was now just a piece of stone onto the library table as he advanced toward her, coming closer and closer until a bright flash of light filled the room. And as it dimmed, Lucifer disappeared with it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So,” Sam began, sitting next to Y/N and Dean on a concrete bench on the dock of a lake.

“So.”

“Cas,” Dean said, exhaling through his nose.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I- I should’ve listened to you when you said you knew something was up.”

Y/N shrugged. “Doesn’t matter...what do we do?”

“What else?” Dean asked, making Sam and Y/N turn to him. “We hunt Lucifer, trap the bastard, and save Cas.”

“Like I said, Lucifer may be in control now, but Cas may not come back willingly.” Sam said, hating that he was admitting something he so badly didn’t want to believe. “I mean he chose it.”

“No,” Dean denied, “no, not possible.”

“So how’d you get through today?” Y/N asked, trying to change the subject. “I mean, what did you do?”

“Nothing,” He said simply. Dean shook his head as if trying to forget all that had happened in the last few hours. “I mean, they...I was just a witness.”

A beat of silence passed before Sam spoke up, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Dean looked down at his hands, shaking his head again. “No. Story for another day.”

Sam nodded, understanding that what Dean had seen must have been bad enough. Neither him nor Y/N would prod any further than Dean was ready. Sam began to stand, walking back to the car as Y/N followed but was stopped by Dean’s voice.

“The German ship that sank the Bluefin, what happened to it?”

“It went down,” Y/N said, recalling the book she’d read. “Unlike the sub, its wreckage was found. Um, there was a giant hole that’d been ripped through the entire thing. And something must have hit the fuel tanks and exploded. But it burned. Sank.”

Sam and Y/N retreated to the car, leaving Dean as he sat on the dock, holding the Hand of God, smiling.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Forever Tag List

Want to be notified when I post a oneshot? Let me know by sending me an ask to be tagged to the Forever Tag List!

39 notes · View notes