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Running Into The Black

Summary:

Flying in the Black, you'd never expect to be boarded by the slimy little business man you could have sworn was still on another planet.

When Badger shows up on Serenity, Mal nearly shoots him.

What happens after is the restart of a centuries-long adventure.

(DISCONTINUED.)

Chapter Text

Earth that was had been gone a long time when it happened.

Badger appeared one day, on Serenity, much to the startlement of Mal and the rest of the crew. Having the business man suddenly pop into view when you're in the middle of the 'verse, well, that was more than a bit strange.

It was, however, only the first bit of strangeness.

"You need to get somewhere and lay low for a bit, Malcolm Reynolds. You need to hide."

Mal turned to him, suspicion in his eyes, alarm bells going off in his head. "And why is it we need to be hiding? What're we hiding from?"

Badger rolled his eyes, waving the man's question away. "Trust me. Seeing those bloody ANGELS-" he said with a sneer "-attack a ship in the middle of space and leave the entire crew vulnerable to the damnable powers of the vastness out there is not something I want to see today."

"Your accent's different," Mal spoke, head cocked to the side and staring the other man down. "Why's your accent different?"

"Because he's not who he says he is."

Everyone in the room turned to see River standing at the door, peeking around the edge. Her hands were gripping the metal tightly, almost crushingly, as she looked blankly somewhere over Badger's shoulder.

"He used to be someone different. Got cut off. Little broken, Abused child, drunkard father, fell in love, saved the world. Everything's different, depending on how you turn it."

Badger sighed. "Mind giving me a hand, Luv? They need to find someplace to hide before they're attacked."

River nodded, turning to stare at her brother. "Simon, we need to listen." to Mal "Trust him. Hard, I know. Trust him."

"And I'm not the only one who's not what the bloody tin says. Little slayer, last of her line, not much use for a slayer now. Now the demons and the vampires are scattered." he explained as River ducked away from the door.

"Alright. Still, doesn't explain how in that hell you got on my ship. Badger-"

"Crowley." he corrected, standing up straighter.

Mal blinked at him for a moment, then looked confused. Standing in front of him was not the same shady business man he had dealt with in the past.

Standing in front of him now was someone new, someone with power almost pouring off of him, and everyone in the room could feel it.

"Care to make a deal?" Badge- Crowley asked, eyes going completely beetle-shell black for a moment, before going back to normal. "Because I'm not telling you again. Run for cover, or your entire crew is going to die."

 

~

 

"River, who is he, honey? Why did he call you a slayer? Slayer of what?" Zoe kept at the younger girl's heels all the way to the pilot's seat.

"Slayer. End of demons. End of vampires. No more." she looked Zoe in the eyes. "Poof. Vamps turn to dust, and I cut the hands off of one."

Zoe blinked for a moment. "River, what-"

"Not me. Not really. Her. She came before. I came after. Not really confusing. Not her, not me. Somewhere in between." River murmured. "Hands and faces and names. They all change."

She flicked a few switches and turned the controls. "Except the inside. Inside never changes. Still the same. Blood magic."

Zoe lay a hand on her shoulder. "River, honey, calm down and tell me."

River shook her head. "No time. They're coming. Not a good thing. Trust me."

"Riv-"

"No." River shook her head once more, firmly and clearly with no room for bargaining.

Zoe stared at the young woman in front of her, blinking slowly. This wasn't the half insane girl she had grown cautiously used to. This was someone new, someone who had apparently appeared out of almost nowhere, and needed to be listened to right now.

She nodded just once, turning to look at the door when she heard rushing footfalls. Simon, out of breath and flushed in the face appeared, looking at his little sister. "I...What?"

"Simon, go." River pointed behind her, flipping switches rapidly and shaking her head. "No time, not now. We've got to run."

"River, please, tell me what's going on!" Simon begged, looking scared.

River paused, then turned around to look him in the eyes. "You've always protected me. My turn. We switch off now, alright? My turn. Go." She waved him away, then flicked a finger at the door. "Go."

Simon looked at Zoe, who just shook her head. After a moment, he pursed his lips, then walked off, going back to see what, if anything, was happening in the dining area where Badger had suddenly popped in.

 

~

 

"Now, before I go about making any sort of moves towards what you want, why don't you give me a good reason? Or my hand will be on my piece and riddlin' you with so many holes that not even the good doctor would be able to fix you up."

Mal still wasn't processing the fact that the entire crew was in danger, that's what was happening.

"Malcolm, I do wish you would bloody think!" Crowley snarled "Somewhere in your cargo, you have something that belonged to the two biggest pains in my arse! The angels want it, and they don't care who they rip apart to get it!"

"Captain, maybe we should listen to him..." Simon started, only to make a face as Mal waved him off.

"Not until he explains."

"Every bloody minute I stand here during your little interrogation is another minute that you're in danger." The man sighed, making a rude gesture at Mal "I'm bloody telling you, head for solid ground or get your arse strewn across the black."

The speaker system crackled to life then, interrupting everyone. "We're headed for the nearest moon, captain. We'll be there in about an hour."

Mal stared at the com system like he'd been slapped. "What? I'm the captain of this gorramn ship, ain't I? When did this become a mutiny? I'm still the gorramn captain!"

He turned to Crowley. "Apparently, we're now on our way to a moon, how's about we get some answers from you?"

Crowley sighed. "You might want to sit down."

 

~

 

"I was originally from Earth that was. I was born there, to a small family in what was once called Scotland. I grew up to be one of the worst fathers I can think of, excluding the bastard that raised Robert..."

Mal frowned "Who the Hell is Robert?"

Black eyes flashed for a moment. "Mind shutting up?"

Rolling his eyes, Mal stayed silent.

"I had a son that I hurt. When I died, he moved across the waters. To England, I believe. He had children of his own, they had kids of their own. So on and bloody so fourth. But when I died, I went to Hell." Crowley smirked "See, Hell isn't like the cute little pictures that your bible presents. Hell is vicious and unforgiving and it rots your soul."

He took a sip from the cup in front of him.

"I eventually became the king of Hell. Mainly thanks to the Winchester brothers. They were pains in my arse, but they paved the way for me to get the job. I was the big man, the boss."

Kaylee had left the engine room and was currently sitting at the table, next to Mal, listening to the story. She was frowning and raised a hand. "Sorry, but you ruled Hell?"

"I did." he sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "To you, this is all just a story. Earth that was was never your home. After all of the demon business and the like, I helped save the world. Only for your ancestors to destroy the bloody thing."

 

~

 

"Crowley?"

The gruff voice came from behind him, and he smirked for a moment, turning to see the man he knew would be scowling at him. "Yes, Robert?"

The scowl grew deeper.

"How d'ya know that yer plan is gonna work?"

Crowley considered a moment, looking out at the city he could see from the hill they were on. Yards away, the Winchesters and the angel stood, marking out the symbols they would need for the ritual he had taught them.

"Truthfully, I don't. I do know, however, that this will keep everyone alive but frozen in time long enough for you to destroy the thing threatening life as we know it." he licked his lips "Honestly, have more faith in me, Robert."

With that, he leaned towards the man and kissed him, pulling away quickly. "Once for luck," he muttered.

 

~

 

Mal stared at him. "You saved the world? From what I hear of demons from preachers and the like, demons got no business savin' anything."

Crowley gave him a look. "Have I explained enough to take a look at your cargo and try to find what it is the angels are willing to kill you  all for?"

He stood, Mal standing with him. "Only if I go with you."

Crowley made a face at him, letting him lead the way. When they got to the belly of the ship, where all the crates stood, Crowley took a deep breath. "It'll be somewhere in here. Have you got anything that struck you as odd to want to be transported?"

Mal didn't answer, walking over to a crate that would have lined up with Crowley's hip bone. "This is supposed to be Old Earth antiques. Didn't figure that it was anything worth much coin, just some trinkets."

This time it was Crowley who didn't answer, opening the crate and shifting through the packing material.

Within, he found several things, but the thing that made him go pale was an amulet on a simple leather string. Along with that, he found a faded plastic case labeled "Casa Erotica 13", a few knives, and a flask. The flask made him look like he was going to break something. One of the knives had what looked like writing on it, and he sighed when he recognized it.

"Of bloody course, this is one of the things that got out." he muttered.

Putting the knife back, he dug deeper into the box, pulling out an extremely old gun, a smile creeping onto his face when he saw it. He also managed to find a box of ammo at the bottom of the crate.

His eyes went almost comically wide when he pulled out three containers.

They each had a set of letters carved into them, and he set them on the floor quickly, almost as if he were afraid to touch them too long.

At the very bottom of the crate, there was a slightly stained coat. He held it for a moment, then set it down almost as carefully as he had the containers.

He ran a hand down his face, then held his breath for a moment. When Mal took a step towards him, he looked up. "This all either belonged to the Winchesters or one of the people they knew. Their names were Sam and Dean, and they were the biggest heroes that Earth had. No one ever really knew who they were."

Mal knelt next to him, picking up the DVD case, an eyebrow raised. "This looks like sex. Is this sex?"

Crowley chuckled. "It was a message saying goodbye from someone who died to save their lives. He hid it in the video, then got himself killed."

"Then the coat?"

The trench coat was almost off the floor when Crowley snatched it back, folded it neatly, and set it back down. "It belonged to the brother of the one who hid the message within the porn."

"What about this stuff?" Mal asked, looking at the rest of it. "This don't look like normal antiques."

"Demon killing knife, a gun that can kill anything with one shot, if the bullet hits the properly fatal spot." Crowley pointed to the containers "Those, however, carry souls within them."

He fished the amulet from the pile "I believe that this is what the angels are looking for."

"Wait, mind explaining that last? Souls?"

Crowley picked up the jar labeled 'R.S' and showed it to the man next to him. "Souls. As in what makes someone a human. As in what I used to trade in."

He tucked the jar in close to his chest, holding it tightly.  "They're the Winchesters and what amounted to their adoptive father. Robert Singer."

He put the rest of the things back into the crate, stood, and picked it up. "Back to the rest, shall we?"

 

~

 

When they got to the dining area again, the rest of the crew had gathered and were currently standing in a circle around a man who looked rather confused as to where he was. The moment he saw Crowley, however, he looked less confused and more assured of something.

"Crowley." he greeted.

Crowley sighed, making a clucking noise with his tongue. "Castiel."

"How the Hell do you folk keep showin' up on MY ship?" Mal asked, looking between the two.

"You have found what my siblings are looking for," Castiel stated, ignoring his question. "Might I see?"

"They were looking for an entire box of things, actually. The Winchesters weapons, a few personal items, their souls..."

The other man, Castiel, looked worried at that. "The souls of the Winchester brothers. You have them?"

Wordlessly, Crowley handed over the crate, still cradling the container marked 'R.S'. "Enjoy," he said, entranced by the thing in his arms.

Castiel almost tore through the entire box, not stopping until he had a container as well, this one marked 'D.W.'. "You managed to locate the humans transporting these things."

"I've known them for a while. They make a trade with me occasionally. Cut off from Hell, I resort to human work." Crowley muttered, fingers tracing the etched letters. "They do the odd job for me."

He nodded towards the crate, then reached in and pulled out the coat. "Recognize anything?" he asked sarcastically, handing it towards the other. "It's been sitting in a crate with your boyfriend for centuries, it should be nice and familiar."

Castiel took it, slipping it on over the clothing he wore. Suddenly he looked complete, like something had been added, more than just a piece of clothing.

He focused on the container he held, intense blue eyes seeming to look through it at what was inside. "Dean..." he whispered.

A moment later, he met Crowley's eyes. "We need them to help us."

"If you can recreate the bodies, I can shove their souls back into them," Crowley said, still almost cuddling the container. "As long as you bring Robert back, I'll be alright with what happens next."

Castiel nodded, then turned to Mal. "Dean would say that I need to ask you for the space to perform the task. Might I have the space."

Mal gaped at him.

Kaylee however, stepped forward and gave them both a large smile. "I think the cargo bay is big enough. Anything you need?"

Castiel looked at her, then at the box in front of him. "No. I have everything I need here. No one steps through the door once we start. It could blind you."

"Kaylee!" Mal huffed, finding his voice and looking angry. "This is my ship!"

"And they need the space. They seem to know what's happening captain. I say we let 'em. Everything's shiny."

Mal let out a string of expletives, then turned around.

Castiel and Crowley had already left the room.

 

~

 

"Jayne!"

Everyone turned to Kaylee, who had broken the silence. It was Jayne, however, who was poking through the crate and looking at what was there. He had already grabbed the disk of porn and there was another disk tucked into the side of the crate.

Kaylee looked incensed, and she trotted over, smacking him upside the head. "That ain't yours!"

"They sure ain't usin' it! Heard Mal say it's porn, that's all." Jayne grumbled, watching as Kaylee took the disks and their cases to the other side of the room.

Mal snatched one from her, opening it and looking at the disk inside. "Pretty damn sure that Earth that was didn't have disks like this."

It looked rather more like a key than a disk, and when he opened the other one, it was the same sort of thing. Both disks had been altered to fit together, like a lock. Sighing, Mal headed to the cargo bay but was stopped by Simon saying something.

"Didn't they say not to go in once they started?"

Mal closed his eyes, muttered something inappropriate for children to hear, even in Chinese, and stood still. "They will probably be wantin' to know that something like this popped up."

"They also said that you might go blind," Simon said, his face blank but still managing to look annoyed. "I don't think you would do too well with being blind. How about you stay out here and wait?"

Before Mal could answer, River's voice crackled over the com system. "We're docking now."

"Doctor, I've a mind to throw your gorramn face in the mud. Apparently, this ain't my ship anymore. Your sister's taken over the flying, you ain't allowing me to go to the cargo bay, strange folk keep appearing out of nowhere, and I got a need to-"

Simon looked at him oddly, cheeks tinged red. "Captain, I assure you, whatever you need to do can wait for now. Unless it's a medical emergency, in which case the infirmary is free. It will be a medical emergency if you go down to the cargo bay though, because in all likelyhood, they are correct in thinking that what they are doing might blind you. They're the ones who know what they're doing. If they say it might happen, I will not stand by and let you ruin yourself for the sake of telling them something, when it can WAIT."

Mal blinked, then looked like he might argue some more when Castiel came back into the room.

He looked annoyed, like something had gotten in his way when he was doing whatever it was he had been doing. After a second, he spoke.

"We cannot bring back Sam. His vessel would need to be exact, otherwise it would be rejected by his soul. This is not a true reincarnation, otherwise we could have been done by now." he sighed, but it didn't sound quite right, like he wasn't used to making the gesture. "I-"

He had caught sight of the disks that Mal held.

"Where did you get those?" he asked as he took them, looking at the cases. "My brother made these, I know that."

"They were in the crate, one of them was stuck on the side."

Everyone watched as Castiel opened the cases, dropped them to the floor, and held only the disks.

"Of course." he breathed, looking entranced "He never would have allowed himself to die without a backup plan." He pushed the key shaped disk into the lock shaped one, pressing them together until a click was heard. Still silent, the entire crew watched in awe as the disks started pulsing with a soft light, appearing to get brighter every few pulses.

Castiel looked relieved. "Close your eyes." he ordered. The disks flashed a couple of times, then almost exploded out of his hands as the light got blindingly bright. The light surged in every direction, seeming to bounce off the metal walls.

After a few minutes, the light faded and revealed a man curled into a ball on the floor.

He had highlighted brown hair, with blonde streaks, and when he opened his eyes, they were a bright and clear gold. He stood slowly, hands stretched out in front of him. Breathing heavily, he glanced around, looked at himself, then at Castiel.

"I can't believe that worked! How's it goin' Lil' bro?"

Crowley walked in then, caught sight of the man, and sneered. "Another bleeding angel," he muttered, catching Mal's attention.

"Woah, hold up. I thought the angels wanted us dead."

The new man looked at him. "If you're being attacked by my family, it's most likely not Cassy here. The only ones he ever attacked were the ones who went after the Winchesters." he turned to Castiel "Are they alright? Last thing I know, I was shish-kabobbed by Lucy. What's happened since then?"

"It's been about six hundred years since then, Gabriel," Crowley informed him. "Your safe-guard worked, but not in time to get you back to the Moose's side. But it's a good thing you're here."

The man, Gabriel, looked at him. "Crowley. Haven't seen your slimy ass since who knows when. What do you mean it's a good thing I'm here? Sam's dead."

It was Castiel who took a step towards him, raising a hand. "We're working on fixing that. We need an exact replica of him, otherwise, the soul would reject it. You knew the most about him, besides his brother."

Gabriel nodded. "Every freckle, every inch."

"Wait a minute!"

The demon and the two angels turned to Mal, who was once again annoyed. "Yes?" Crowley spoke with an eyebrow raising.

"You said he was an angel." he pointed at Gabriel, "But you also said he was another one. Who is the first, because I'm damn sure that you said you were a king of Hell."

Castiel looked the man in the eyes. "I am Castiel, a messenger of the Lord. My brother is Gabriel, the Archangel. Crowley was the King of Hell, I do not know where he stands in the current order of things."

Gabriel sighed, shaking his head. "I kind of want to get this over with Cassy."

With that, the three of them disappeared.

 

~

 

For a moment, nothing is registering.

There's two colors that he knows right now, and that's black and grey. Where ever he is currently, it's certainly not Hell. Hell is more gloomy, more dark, and not something as simple as what feels like a metal grate pressing into his back.

The next thing he's aware of is a hand on his shoulder, shaking lightly. It's a familiar hand, and as it moves further down on his left shoulder and makes contact with the mark there...

Well, he no longer can sit still. The sensation doesn't exactly feel bad, it feels more like his entire body is a tongue that was just pressed to a nine-volt battery.

"Dean." there's a voice talking to him and he can't exactly tell what it's saying, but he knows his name and the voice is repeating it. He knows that voice and he spent ages trying to memorize the sound of it so that he could remember it because for some reason it would go away. At times for days, and sometimes he had been scared that the next time would be forever.

"Dean, ya idjit! Wake up!"

There's another voice, and this one is the voice he automatically labels as his dad. Not blood related, but still his dad.

His eyes finally open, his muscles relaxing enough to allow it.

In front of him are the bluest set of eyes he can ever remember seeing and the name falls from his mouth like a stone through water.

"Cas. Castiel. Cas!" he murmurs it like it's a prayer and then they're holding each other and he's pulling the other being close and wrapping his fingers in the hair that's longer than he remembers it being and that voice, his voice.

It's saying his name and all he knows is that if he tries to let go right now, he'll break apart because separation now isn't possible.

After a moment, he opens his eyes once more, not even able to recall closing them this time. "Cas, where the friggin hell are we?"

"We're one the Firefly Class Serenity. You've been dead for more than six hundred years." Cas still recites sentences like he doesn't know how to speak like a human and Dean is grateful because otherwise he would be panicking right now.

Something is wrapped around his hand and his fingers are closed over it, someone muttering about having to give it to him twice now.

And he knows that voice too.

He turns his head, still holding onto Cas and almost drags the angel down with him as he lunges and grabs his little brother around the neck.

 

~

 

Mal looks at the man on the floor, the one who looks like he hasn't noticed anything around him yet besides the people within immediate range.

He's currently hugging two of them.

Mal shrugs, then turns to Crowley. "Alright, who are these people?" he points at Castiel. The angel looks awkwardly comfortable in the arms of the taller man, but the tallest of the three is being hugged in a different way than he is. Dean is hugging him around the neck, rather than around the waist, but it doesn't look any less intimate. It all looks like a man who hasn't seen his family in forever and might have thought they were dead.

Crowley points at Dean. "That's Dean Winchester. The one he has in his arms, almost strangling, is his little brother. Sam Winchester is the Moose. Castiel and Dean were in a relationship that is a little hard to determine. Dear Cas there rescued Dean from Hell." he noticed Mal's confused expression. "Before my time. If it had been me in charge, the little bastard would never have gotten free. As it is, thing's worked out for the better."

"And the reason you're hiding up here, instead of standing by the man whose soul you wouldn't let go of when it was in a jar?" Mal poked his arm, getting him to look him in the eyes.

"It's because of what happened when he died. The first time, anyways." Crowley answered quietly. "He and I got along well after the first time we stopped the world from ending as a group. Y'know, once I gave him back his soul. But I don't know if he's still angry."

"You-" Mal stuttered, the muttered something Crowley didn't quite catch. "You've been waitin' for near six hundred years, it seems, and now he's back and just go talk to him before I push you over the railing."

Crowley looked at the scene below them, then nearly jumped out of his skin when River appeared right next to him.

"He's wondering how he got back. His brain knows, and he didn't ask to be the ringmaster, but you need to talk to him."

"Right, Luv. I'll just go have a bloody chat with the man who once would have loved nothing more than to blow a hole through my head."

She stared him down, imposing even when she stood a good three inches shorter than him. "Go." she pointed, then grabbed his hat and started running, curling herself through the railings and down the stairs. Everyone watched her for a moment, Crowley in shock, and then his feet started moving.

He chased her down, grabbing for the hat.

Bobby saw him then, taking the hat from River. "Why the hell weren't you there when I woke up, idjit? Do you have any idea how long it's been since I saw yer sorry ass?"

Crowley snatched at his hat, still not meeting his eyes. He paled when Bobby stopped and pulled something out from inside it, then handed it back to him. Unfolding the paper he had retrieved, Bobby scowled at him. "Is this what you were hiding from me, yer majesty?" he mocked the demon.

When Dean tried to lean over and see it, however, Bobby refolded it and slid it into his own pocket. "Now how's about you and I go talk? I'm tired of you being an ass."

 

~

 

"So when my sister came up to you and started talking about your home and everything, you weren't looking worried because she was telling your secrets, were you?"

Crowley looked up at Simon, frowning. "That's right. She almost went exposing my old life.

 

~

 

"Damn it Robert, don't you dare die on me you bloody bastard!" Crowley screamed, holding the mans hand tightly. On the ground next to him, Bobby was bleeding out from a gaping hole in his side.

He had maybe five minutes. Not nearly enough time for a deal or for a human doctor to save his life. Not even Crowley could save him. Robert Singer was going to die.

"Damn it!" he snarled again, hitting the ground and cracking the dirt a few inches from his hand. "Robert, luv, if you die, I'll grab onto you if you go down! Live you bastard, or I'll make you wish you had never died!"

Twenty feet away, Castiel cradled Dean's head, his soul already pulled from his body. Sam lay next to them, his ribcage ripped open in one place and his internal organs a soupy mess. Dean was dead, and Castiel wasn't letting the body go.

"Crowley..." came the choked whisper, causing the anger on the demons face to flee immediately.

"No! Don't speak, Robert, just don't. There's some way to fix this, you'll make it somehow, you and your bloody arseholes of adopted sons always find a way to make my life annoying. Don't talk, you'll just yammer at me the next time we meet."

Bobby shook his head, eyes fixing hazily on Crowleys face, eventually flickering faintly up towards his eyes. "Crowley..." he coughed, his lungs almost rattling in his chest. "I meant it. Wanted...Wanted you to come find me. Could'a..."

He drew in a shallow breath, the blood slowing down now.

"See Robert, the bleeding's slowing down now. You'll be just fine, you bastard!" Crowley tried to convince him. Bobby's bloody hand on his arm made him be quiet though.

"Could'a been nice..." he gave Crowley a weak little smile. "You'd'a jus'..."

He went silent.

"Robert." Crowley shook his shoulder. "Robert!" his hands were shaking now, giving Bobby just a few more lifelike movements.

"Bobby!" he tried out of desperation. Still no response and Castiel was looking at him now. With a choked sound, Crowley looked at him. "And where the bloody HELL is YOUR side of things now, ANGEL? They've died and your side doesn't seem to give a damn!"

Castiel shrunk backwards, still holding onto Dean's body. Blue eyes closed slowly, the angel seeming to have to adjust to what was happening inside his head. "Dean's dead." he said at last, running his fingers through the mans blood coated hair. "I..."

A flutter of wings announced someone's arrival.

Before them stood a tall, bone thin man, with black hair and dark eyes. His gaunt cheeks gave the impression of a living skeleton as he took in the scene. With a sigh, he looked at Crowley, then at Castiel.

"They're gone now. Their souls were taken when Michael and Lucifer left their bodies."

Death took a step towards Dean's body, and Castiel lunged over the dead man, shielding him.

"No! Don't you touch him!"

The madness in his eyes was only partly human. Death looked at him for a moment more, then knelt next to him, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"You've been ripped in half, little angel. Try not to scratch at the wound."

A flash of bright light and Castiel dropped unconscious, falling on top of Dean's body.

Death turned to Crowley, standing once more. If he looked carefully, he could see the midnight and stars behind the being's back, where his wings would have been if they could be seen.

"Don't let him go down." he whispered. "Don't let him go near my world. It's not right for him, he wouldn't fit in, and it would just destroy him eventually. With Lucifer back in his box and Michael strapped to him, I'm in charge." he choked on his words, still holding Bobby's hand.

"Don't let him go to Hell."

Death gave him a look, seeming to search him for a moment, and Crowley sat still. "You're not the being you once were. You rose a little. I haven't heard of a rising demon for years. They're less common than a fallen angel."

Crowley balked, then looked at Bobby. "I...Will it always hurt?"

"You've been saving the world altogether too much to stay a true demon." Death spoke, twisting the ring on his finger almost absently. "Did you honestly expect me to overlook your newfound hero complex?"

When Crowley didn't respond, he nodded slowly. "It will hurt. It is the price you pay for becoming a new person."

Death pressed a hand to The King of Hell's forehead and the newly risen demon fell unconscious.

"And it is the price you'll pay for holding onto him."

If someone had been watching and had even slightly blinked, it would have been almost like a spot the difference picture.

One moment, there were three dead bodies and two unconscious supernatural beings, the next it was just the two beings. Like someone had just slid them out of the picture. And then the rain started falling, as if to cleanse the hilltop of what had happened there.

Sam and Dean had both accepted, and then succeeded at gaining control of the angels in their heads. They had both allowed Castiel and Crowley to grab hold of their souls and pull them free, shoving them into Hell.

They had saved the world.

Of course, Lucifer had retaliated by ripping a hole through Sam and turning his insides into soup, and Michael had shredded Dean's arterial veins on his way out.

And before the boys had gained control, Bobby had paid the ultimate price.

Still, they had managed to make everything happen before the angels had planned on it. The fight hadn't happened, and the world was still turning.

A few more moments passed.

Castiel sat up shakily, wiping at his forehead, as if trying to get something off. Crowley soon followed, brushing off the lapels of his suit and blinking blearily.

And almost as one, the Fallen Angel and the Risen Demon walked off the field of the Final Battle.

 

~

 

And here and now, in front of him, was the man he had held onto while he died.

Crowley had his hat in his hands, tugging at the brim, alternating between the hat and his tie. He licked his lips nervously, then shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"What in the Hell happened to yeh?" Bobby finally asked.

Crowley gave a short choked laugh. "Kind of the opposite, Robert. Not quite of Hell anymore, not quite of Heaven. Sodding bastards wouldn't let me in, anyways." he frowned. "Don't really care about that, but it would have been nice for them to offer it."

Bobby looked him over, then put a hand on his cheek. A thumb stroked over the bone there, then trailed down to Crowley's neck. Bobby gave it a second, allowing for the other to pull away if he wanted to, then tugged him in close. Only when they were sharing airspace did he speak again.

"Yeh helped save the world, I would think they'd be a little more grateful."

For a second, it seemed like Crowley wouldn't reply, then he smiled slowly, dropping his hat off to the side, on top of a box. He tucked his head into the crook of Bobby's neck. Bobby didn't seem to mind, instead he put an arm around Crowley's waist and pulled him more tightly against himself.

"When you were...Before..." Crowley floundered for the words "You were saying something. Something about me."

Bobby smiled, then rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to say..." he sighed, then kissed Crowley's forehead. "Yeh'd need a little calming down, although it seems that's happened, but I think we could work something domestic out. Somehow."

Crowley looked at him, took in the face he knew so well, the look in his eyes that had always been there around Crowley, and the warmth of the man's arms.

"I do believe, Robert, that you're almost declaring love of some kind."

The man smirked, then playfully smacked the top of his head. "I ain't almost declaring anything. I'm plain sayin', and unless you don't speak english, then you should understand what I mean."

Crowley nodded, then pulled Bobby down by the collar of the old faded t-shirt he had always worn and had been brought back wearing, pulled him down until he could kiss him.

His colder than a human lips and Bobby's warm freshly alive ones met and in the background, they could both hear Dean, loud and freaked out, protesting the kiss. It wasn't perfect, and they could do with a little more practice, but they would figure that out along the way.

Chapter 2: Hey Hey Hey When I Need To Be Saved

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Crowley hadn't left Bobby's side for a few hours. It seemed almost like he was afraid of letting go of the man, for fear of him disappearing.

"We're setting down now. Ain't you gonna explain what exactly is happening to my ship?"

Looking up, Crowley's eyes flashed black for a moment, and Mal flinched backwards, swearing in chinese.

Crowley snarled, then made a sort of purring noise when Bobby stroked the back of his neck. "I should start at the begining, and I should make the Feathery Bastards explain some things as well."

Mal snorted, then crouched next to them, hands on his knees. "How's about you explain why we ain't flying anymore?"

In the next second, he had to throw himself backwards as Crowley lunged at him, reaching for his throat. He was saved, barely in time, by Bobby throwing his arms around Crowley's waist.

"We aren't flying because if you had left your Gorram ship in the bloody sky, you would have been subjected to the vastness of the black, ripping apart your lungs. It would have been painful, but at least it would have been quick. If you had stayed in the air, you and your Shee-Niou crew would be DEAD."

Breathing heavily, Crowley tucked himself back into Bobby's arms, head coming to a rest in the crook of the man's neck.

Mal stood up, making a show of looking normal after having been snarled at by the former King of Hell. When he took a step backwards, then turned, he almost ran straight into Castiel. The Angel tilted his head, eyes wide and focused intently on Crowley and Bobby. Behind him was Dean, face in his hands as he tried not to freak out over his adoptive father and Crowley curling up together.

"They're..." Castiel frowned. "Crowley was never like this before he became a Risen Demon. He used to..."

Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, making a resigned face. "Cas, how about we explain our being here?"

They sat on the floor, a few feet away from the couch the older beings were on.

Mal stared at them, then sighed. "I'm never going to get to be alone on my ship again, am I? You're all disrupting the calm."

As if to prove this, Sam and Kaylee came clattering in at that moment, each with an armful of books. Gabriel trailed behind them, hands in his pocket and a disappointed look on his face. He ran a hand over Sam's ass, then passed him to go stand next to Castiel.

When Mal looked like he was going to yell at them, Kaylee grinned and set her armful down, then stepped over to her captain and kissed his cheek. "Found somethin', Cap'n!"

She was extraordinarily cheerful for the current situation.

"What in the Hell did you find?" Mal asked as he looked over at the books now sitting in a pile on the floor.

The covers were ridiculous, painted images of two men in pants but no shirts, long hair flowing in a Fabio fashion. Weapons, strange creatures, beautiful women with black eyes, red eyes, white eyes. There were even a few Earth-that-was vehicles on a few of them. There was also a man with a fluffy beard and an oddly shaped hat.

At the sight of the books, Dean groaned and covered his face again. "How the friggen' HELL did those things get here?"

Sam made a face, mockingly surprised. "They seem, once again, to be part of our lives."

At Mal's look, he nodded towards them, then continued, "They're books about us. A man named Chuck Shurley wrote them. He was a prophet of the Lord, and he was protected by an Angel, and he was assigned the job of 'Writing the Gospel of the Winchesters'. When we met him, he was convinced that we were his creations come to life, and he nearly had a mental meltdown."

Dean groaned again, rubbing almost viciously at his eyes. "I thought we had escaped those friggen' things. It's been over six hundred years, Sammy. Where the hell did you find them?"

Kaylee sheepishly raised her hand, grinning like she expected to be yelled at for something she did and had known was stupid. "I collected them. My daddy liked'ta encourage reading and working with your hands, and when he found out that I had got ahold of one of these books, he tracked the rest of them down and gave 'em to me as gifts. My birthday, holidays. Was just a present I got."

Dean looked at her, the expression on his face somewhere between disbelief and wanting to hurt her.

Sam nodded at his brother, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "She's got all of them."

"Not all of them. I always sorta figured that Dean escaped Hell, and well, here he is." she smiled apologetically. "I guess there must have been more, but I never got 'em."

All of them jumped slightly when Crowley spoke up suddenly.

"There are more. I went to the Prophet's house and collected the bloody unpublished manuscripts. Didn't want the stupid things to be lost to the ages."

Bobby stifled a laugh, then looked at the Winchester brothers. "Ya two Idjits figured out what the Hell is goin' on yet?"

It took a moment, but Dean realized it first. His face crumpled, and for a moment, he looked broken, like a puppet that had the strings ripped away. "It's another Apocalypse, Sammy." he swallowed, but it seemed forced, like he was trying to swallow around an ice cube. "It's another 'End of the World' bullshit thing."

"It gets worse, Winchester." Crowley spoke again, "It's another 'End of the World' thing, and it is once again at the fault of the Angels."

The look on Dean's face made him look older now, too old for the thirty year old he really was. Castiel made a noise in the back of his throat and moved closer to Dean, hesitating for a moment before he wrapped his fingers in and around Dean's.

The human looked up, then at their hands, a sort of smile hovering around the edge of his mouth. "Thanks, Cas." he muttered, gripping the Angel's fingers tightly.

Neither of them acknowledged the glow of gold around their hands, but Crowley saw it and raised an eyebrow. Looking between the two, he shrugged and didn't mention it.

Gabriel spoke from the corner he had found to sit in.

"Really, this all sort of starts with how I 'Died'." he shot a sly grin at Mal when the man gaped at him and Kaylee watched him with fascination. "I got 'killed' by my brother, Lucifer. He wanted to take over Sam's body and use it to fight our other brother, Michael."

"I said 'No' repeatedly." Sam interjected, a grim look on his face. "And Lucifer wasn't too happy about that."

"Right. Kiddo there stood up to my brother, who was admittedly, a bully. I was all for shoving their fates down their throats, until they managed to make me see that I needed to grow a spine." Gabriel shrugged. "I was a bit of an ass, I will admit."

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering something, and to Mal, it sounded like 'Killed me repeatedly...', but he couldn't exactly hear it.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel continued. "ANYWAYS," he glanced at Dean "I stood my ground against oh-so-Dear Luci, and I got my ass skewered for it. Before I got hurt though, I managed to get a disk into Sam's possession, and he managed to get out alive from there. My recollection stops there."

Sam smiled at the golden-eyed Angel, then turned to Mal. "From there, Lucifer was still chasing me down, trying to get me to say yes. Michael was after the same thing from my brother."

"Neither of them accepted that we didn't want to be worn as meatsuits. All that mattered to them was the fact that it was written in some crap-ass book somewhere that they would friggen' duke it out using us as weapons. Brother against brother, and some other crap like that." Dean added, still holding onto Castiel like he was a lifeline in the middle of an ocean.

Sighing, Bobby threw in his two cents. "And these two idjits finally said yes. Had some crazy sort of plan, and apparently decided it was worth the risk."

"Of course, he forgets to add that at the time, he'd had an injury that left him bound to a wheelchair," Crowley muttered. "It's how we met."

Bobby burrowed his fingers into the Demon's hair. "Hush you, I'm gettin' to it." he shrugged, "Crowley came along and I made a deal with him to get the location of someone who could help and he added in a sneaky sub-clause about me gettin' my legs back. I didn't ask for that, and he gave it anyways."

Dean looked at him, startled. "What the hell? I didn't know that." Turning to Crowley, he frowned. "The deal. What was in it for you?"

Crowley gave him a lazy glare. "Getting Robert back on his feet. He was bloody miserable without the ability to walk. Hated it, hated having to be stuck like that, hated having to ask for help."

The harsh accent he'd had as long as Mal had known him was fading away now, and a smooth Queen's English accent was taking its place.

Mal looked at the displaced-in-time people and Crowley. "So how in the Hell ya'll end up here?"

Sam winced, a hand flying up to his chest as if he were still feeling the pain of how he'd died. "We said yes to Michael and Lucifer." he sighed, "And then we were trapped in our own heads as they went to go fight each other."

Mal's eyebrows went shooting up to his hairline. "Well...damn."

"We managed to gain control of our own bodies again." Dean exhaled like he had been holding his breath for ages. "And we managed to get them back where they belonged. In the Pit, stuck in Hell."

"They tore them apart. Lucifer liquified Sam's insides, and Michael tore apart arterial veins in Dean."

Castiel sounded like he very dearly wanted to rip apart his brothers.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Last thing I remember was dyin', and apparently that ain't stickin' anymore."

Crowley shuddered, sliding down until his face was hiding in Bobby's shirt, making an uncomfortable noise. "Death himself talked to me and took you from me."

Castiel grew pale, blue eyes suddenly searching Dean out and locking onto him, as if he were making sure that the man was still there. When Dean met his gaze, he visibly relaxed. Without a moment's hesitation, Dean pulled Castiel into his side, their hands still linked together and smiled at him.

Mal looked at the six people in front of him. Four of them were suddenly displaced out of their own time, and two of them had been left alone so long that they had gone crazy.

"How in the Hell-"

A sudden boom echoed throughout the ship, and a loud screeching noise of metal against metal made all of them wince.

Running footsteps were heard a moment before River and Zoe popped into view, Jayne following a second later. River looked alarmed, but for the most part, all three of them looked still in control of themselves.

Mal took a look at them, then turned and grabbed for the com-line on the wall. "Simon, kindly get your Tian Di Wu Yowng self down here. We need to get off my ship for a little while, let everything cool down."

For a second, it seemed like Simon wasn't going to respond, and Mal hovered his finger over the button. River looked intently at the intercom, as if she were willing her brother to reply and tell them he was alright.

Then the line crackled, static fuzzing over the line, causing Kaylee to look unhappy. "I can't, Captain. Wash isn't in a stable enough state for me to leave him alone yet."

"Doc, if you ain't down here by the time I count ta three-"

"I cannot leave Wash without him dying."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and if you don't get yourself down here, you'll be the one dyin' and we'll all be without a Doctor."

They were waiting for a reply when Mal was slammed into the wall, and Dean followed shortly. Sam was pushed into the ground, and Gabriel suddenly looked afraid. Without a word, Castiel rushed to his side, standing his ground and forming a barrier between Dean and the Angel who had just appeared on the ship.

"Hello, Castiel."

It was a female vessel, with sleek black hair pulled back into a harsh updo. She wore a grey suit and shiny black shoes, and she looked like the most dangerous person in the room, despite the business attire.

"Naomi." Castiel returned tersely. After a second, he looked behind her and his frown deepened. "Haniel."

The man standing behind Naomi was fairly average looking. If Mal hadn't known that the man in front of him wasn't human, he would have assumed that he was a trader on one of the other planets.  Haniel, as Castiel had called him, was looking at all of them with a small amount of regret on his face.

"The souls of the Winchester brothers have been traced, Castiel. We know what you have done with them. We know they are back to being alive." Naomi's voice was all sharp angles and pointed tones.

Castiel shifted, and Mal just barely caught a glance at the tip of something silver hanging out of his jacket sleeve.

And then things were moving very quickly, Castiel lunging towards the woman and lashing out at her, the silver tip revealing itself to be a strange blade. When she dodged backwards, he slammed it up towards her face, a snarl setting the lines around his mouth. He looked like fury incarnate and for one second, Mal had a very good idea of an Angel's rage.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, dragging him backwards and for a moment, he assumed that it was the other Angel, Haniel. When he went for his gun, he discovered it was Bobby, who clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. They watched for a moment as Castiel and Gabriel stood back to back, both wearing the same look on their face. Crowley was nowhere to be seen, until Bobby motioned upwards and he saw him fighting an unnamed Angel on the upper levels of the cargo bay.

Dean and Sam were digging through the box of their things, and Bobby dragged him to their side, handing him his gun. After a moment of panic, during which he reached for his holster and found it empty, he turned and waited, gun at the ready and watching all of the Angel's on his ship.

Dean made a triumphant noise, then rushed past him, a knife in his hand and a gun tucked into his waistband. He ran to Castiel, but was diverted at the last second by another Angel popping up out of nowhere.

Dean stopped, eyes wide, at the man in front of him. "Zachariah."

Mal felt his blood run cold at the name, although it held no significance to him. They way Dean had said it though, that was what got him. The man had kept his tight hold on his obviously apparent panic at waking up in the wrong century, in the middle of space, and meeting new people. The only change in pace was when the books had been revealed by Kaylee.

But now he sounded afraid.

Before he could stop himself, Mal felt his arm raise and his finger squeeze the trigger. The shot hit the man and instead of hunching over or being injured, he simply turned and looked at him.

"All you are is an insignificant being in this whole mess. All we want is the Winchesters. Really truly, all we care about is them. Give them to us, and all your problems are solved, we go away, and you're left alone with your...Ship."

Mal frowned at him. "Seems to me like you ain't a nice person. I got no problem lettin' all sorts onto my ship, but you seem like you just want to cause all kind'sa troubles."

Zachariah gave him a smile, and instantaneously Mal felt something inside himself rear back, like a cornered animal with no way out.

"You filthy little worms have no idea how long we have been looking for them." his face was arranged in a smile, but his eyes betrayed his fury. "We've been searching for so very long. So very, very, VERY long."

He took a step closer to Mal and then stopped. Without even glancing behind him, he grabbed the long blade Castiel was using and ripped it from his hands. He brought it in front of himself, inspecting it and then rolling his shoulders back.

"Castiel." he glanced to the side, a sneer twisting his lips. "Children shouldn't play with toys. Especially when it's so very sharp."

Castiel backed up a step, eyes wide and filled with fear.

Zachariah's face was still twisted into a sneer when he turned, raised his arm, the blade pointed at Castiel, and swung it forward.

At the last second, the blade met with another, a faint ringing sound echoing through the space of the cargo bay.

The sword that had saved Castiel was being wielded by an extremely angry Simon Tam.

He pushed all of his weight forward, bringing his sword about and aiming for Zachariah's head, succeeding in pushing the Angel back a few steps.

"You board our ship. You threaten the lives of everyone here, including that of a man who is ALREADY in a very unstable condition. You then deem it a good idea to attack one of the few people helping us in this whole mess."

Everyone around them had stopped, watching the two as Simon continued to drive the older being backwards with each swing and blow. After a few more swings, Simon used the end of his sword to retrieve Castiel's, snatching it out of the air as it slid down his blade. "And you stole someone's weapon in an unfair fight."

He lunged forwards, jabbing the sword into Zachariah's hand and pinning him to a crate.

"Now." he tugged down the edge of his vest. "How about you leave?"

The look in his eyes allowed no room for an argument, but Zachariah snarled at him. "You pathetic little bug. I could squash you and have no more remorse about it than I would have about slapping away a fly."

With a sigh, Simon looked at Mal. "I can see this isn't going to be solved with reason." He turned to River, who still had an Angel by the neck, a serene look on her face that was out of order with the rest of the scene. "River? Can you keep an eye on them for me?"

Before she could answer, Crowley dropped neatly down to their level, brushing off his jacket. An unconscious body falling down a few seconds after he landed. He gave it a disdainful look and then shrugged. "Hmm. Too bad Angels can still be knocked unconscious. Might've been funny to watch him try to squirm around with a broken leg and a snapped collar bone."

River laughed like it was the funniest thing in all the worlds.

X

No one really spoke until all the Angels had been dragged into the middle of a circle that Castiel and Gabriel had drawn on the floor together. They'd been careful to make sure that it was something that couldn't be blown away or messed with.

From inside the circle, Naomi and Zachariah stood side by side. Both of them were glaring out at the people surrounding them.

Mal watched Simon with some trepidation in his eyes. "Where in the Hell did you learn to do that?"

Simon gave a small smile, the edges of his lips barely lifting up. "Back when I was younger, my parents decided to get me into fencing. I got more than a couple of medals."

"And you...What, weren't ever going to mention this? Might have come in handy more than a few times, Doc." Mal scoffed at him. "Could have even been put ta use."

"Well..." Simon shrugged and scratched the back of his head. "No one ever handed me a sword and pointed me in a direction. If you had ever been able to not mock me for once, and had actually paid attention, you might have noticed the fact that I'm trained with a sword."

Mal tried to speak up, but Simon shook his head.

"No. You were too busy trying to keep me as far back from any fight as possible."

When Simon gave him a severe look, Mal had the decency to look a bit ashamed of himself. "What? It's not my fault I wanted to keep my..."

The look grew worse, and the beginning of the grin that had started to show on his face completely disappeared.

Mal cleared his throat, then looked over to where Castiel and Dean were. They were leaning against a grate, and Kaylee was sitting on the steps above them. She was chattering away at them, and Dean was nodding along, occasionally saying something. By the way she was holding onto one of her tools, he assumed that they were talking about engines and vehicles.

Sam was standing with Gabriel and River, who was looking between the two. The slenderly built girl, standing none-too-tall all by herself, was taller than the golden-eyed Angel. He was having to look up to meet her eyes. It wasn't too far, but it was still noticable. They appeared to be discussing fighting tactics and techniques.

Crowley and Bobby appeared to be being accosted by Jayne, and neither of them looked too happy about that. Jayne appeared to be trying to convince one or the other of them to give him the old gun that Crowley was currently carrying.

Crowley had one hand around the gun, and the other arm wrapped around Bobby. He wasn't letting go of either of them.

Watching the three of them, Mal sighed. "Jayne." When the burly man turned towards him, he frowned. "You'll be wantin' to let it go, Jayne. It's his piece. He ain't givin' it to you."

Jayne looked like he was going to argue, but Bobby muttered something and the look on his face changed to resentment. He backed away and crossed his arms as he leaned against where he had his chin-up bar set up. "Ain't like theys usin' it."

"They surely will be." Mal shot back. "Sure enough, they will be."

"That gun won't be much use against us."

Mal turned to Zachariah, then chuckled. "Well, it don't hurt to try." He smirked, then turned towards Dean. "Winchester, right?"

Dean nodded, excusing himself from Kaylee's company, Castiel following him like a shadow at his side. "Yeah. Dean. My dad was John. My brother is Sammy."

"Sam." the younger of the two corrected from where he was talking to Gabriel and River. He gave a resigned sigh when his brother just laughed.

"What in the Hell kind of a mess is your family for you to be hunted by Angels?" Mal stood, then walked over to Dean. "Ya'll keep bein' glared at by these folk. I'm not much one for groups o' people trying to keep someone from livin' their own way. I think I'm of a mind to help you."

Simon looked at Dean, eyes narrowed. "Winchester?"

"Yeah. So?" Immediately defensive, Dean stared at Simon. "What?"

"Winchester..." Simon muttered something under his breath. "There was something mentioned in the journals of one of my ancestors...A man named Winchester. The writing gets a little blurred, so I have never found out the full name beyond D Winchester."

For a moment, it looked liked someone had smacked Dean with a shovel. "Whose diary is this?"

Simon gave a small but sincere smile. "The man was my grandfather, a long time back. Named Benjamin Braeden. He mentions his mother, and his life, but he always goes back to writing about...I think it's you." he shrugged, then adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. "Zoe, your husband is in a better state now. He's still far from waking up, but for right now he's alright."

She gave him a sharp nod, just once, then turned to look at Mal. "Sir?"

He looked at her. "I don't mind much if you leave the room."

She thought for a moment, then looked towards the Angels they had trapped. "I think I'll stay."

Dean let out a tired sigh. "Great. Friggin' great. Less than eight hours back alive and I've run into the grandson of the kid I helped raise, I get attacked by the friggen' feathery dicks that made my life suck the first time around." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And of course, all I have left is my brother, my Angel, my brother's Angel, the King of Hell, and what basically amounts to my adoptive dad. I don't even have my baby with me."

For a moment, Mal tried to sort this all out in his head, without any help, and then he gave up. "Your baby?"

"Sixty-seven Chevy Impala." Dean smiled, still looking stressed. "Home on wheels. When the rubber meets the road, it feels like freedom."

Mal smiled, a chuckle coming from deep in his throat. "That's what Serenity is for. We keep flying, we keep being free. No matter how far they can reach-"

"-You just go farther." Dean finished for him, the smile on his face growing.

In the circle, Haniel stood at the edge, watching the two men. His eyes were nervous, like he might feel threatened in the circle with the others. "Someone is approaching." he said softly, looking around. "One of our brothers."

"Son-of-a-bitch. More of you fuzzy little bastards." Dean rolled his shoulders in small circles, trying to relieve the tension in them.

Haniel shook his head. "Samandriel."

Next to him, Naomi looked furious, and Mal saw the blade in her hand shake from how tightly she was gripping it. She stepped to the edge, looking as if she were preparing to lash out at someone.

Castiel and Gabriel were looking up as well, Gabriel smiling softly. "Samandriel...Come out come out where ever you are."

A fluttering sound, like feathers on a bird, and a spiky haired young man popped into view. His eyes were hazel, almond shaped, and he was currently looking surprised. He had another of those strange blades in his hand, and he was crouched low, like he expected to be attacked the moment he came into sight.

"Hello, Gabriel." Samandriel smiled. "How are you doing?"

The golden-eyed Angel strode forward and wrapped the other in a hug. After a moment, he stepped back and ruffled the already mussed hair. "Your vessel is all..." he laughed "Fluffy."

Castiel hovered awkwardly next to them, seeming unsure of what to do with himself. Samandriel turned to look at him, his smile growing. "Hello Castiel."

Naomi still looked ready to commit murder. Her vessel's manicured nails were drawing blood from her palms. "Samandriel. You will stand down."

The look on Samandriel's face changed suddenly, like a slide flipping at the click of a button. "I will not stand down, Naomi." he sounded venomous, and he shifted into more of a fighting stance, glancing down at the ground. "You're trapped right now. You cannot escape that circle." he glanced over at Dean, eyes widening. "But that will not keep me from standing up to you this time."

Castiel nodded, placing a hand on the other Angel's shoulder. "Dean would say 'fighting for what's right', I believe." he looked at the human expectantly. When Dean nodded, Castiel looked happier.

With a smile, Gabriel flashed a finger towards the Angels trapped in the circle. "Not a one of you has any right to come and take the Winchesters from their life. You didn't have any right to give them over to Luci and Mikey." He frowned when Samandriel made a noise. "Yeah?"

"They're back." Samandriel looked scared for half a second. "Lucifer and Michael are back. That's why I'm here. To warn you. They have them, and they're trying to restart what Samuel and Dean stopped all those years ago."

"First off: well shit." Gabriel looked over at Sam, gesturing for him to come closer. "Second off: he prefers being called Sam, not Samuel."

Dean had a hand cupped over his eyes, shoulders hunched and a frown able to be seen below his hand. "So wait...We died fixing this bullshit, and the whole point of this is just to restart it?"

Samandriel looked at him, head tilted slightly to the side. It made him look surprisingly like Castiel. "I suppose you could say it like that."

"So we're supposed to...What? Fight all of this AGAIN?" Sam sounded angry."We were torn apart the last time this happened. Literally. I was turned into a sort of sludge made of blood and internal organs." his hand hovered near Gabriel's shoulder, like he was tempted to grab the shorter being and run away.

Samandriel took a deep breath, then looked up. Fear showed on his face as he raised his blade and jumped backward, eyes narrowing. "Why is he here?"

Turning, all of them saw Crowley, his hand raised like he was about to add something to the conversation. Bobby stood next to him and he looked like he was about to either laugh or slap Crowley upside the head.

"Well, make me feel all welcome, why don't you," Crowley muttered. "Isn't this a lovely sight."

That was apparently the thing that broke Bobby's control because he started laughing at the look on the Demon's face. Samandriel looked between the two of them, his shoulders twitching like his wings were settling after being ruffled. "I do not understand."

"Crowley earned a pair of wings." Gabriel smiled. "Don't you know the old legends? Every time a bell rings, an Angel gets his wings. Of course, this time it was a Demon...And he saved the world...But hey, same basic idea."

After a blank look from both Castiel and Samandriel and a slightly confused noise from Haniel, Gabriel sighed. "Am I the only one who ever bothered with pop culture?"

 

~

 

"So we got the Devil on our asses again." Bobby poured a measure of alcohol into a cup from a bottle Mal had handed him.

Mal looked at him. "So wait, explain this whole thing. Lucifer is LUCIFER, as in the guy that most preachers tell ya about? All sin and burnin' Hellfire and torture?"

Sam made a noise. "Less that and more 'knowledge seeker' and 'Fallen Angel'." he motioned towards Crowley. "Kind of the opposite of him."

Crowley grumbled at him, taking a gulp from his cup. "Moose, don't you dare start bringing up old grudges right now."

"Anyways." Sam raised his eyebrows, then looked back at Mal. "He's scarily able to convince you of things that you never wanted to do, but once he talks to you they sound like a good idea. He isn't the comical devil figure, he's more..." he struggled to find the words. "I hesitate to use the word seductive, but he really is. The power he offers, the promise to avenge all the wrongs commited against you. All of it really is seductive, and in a way, that's more dangerous than the raw power he has all on his own."

"Michael has the same kind of thing at his command." Dean added in, cup halfway to his mouth. "Less of it, but he can still convince you of things." he allowed his cup to lower, almost not in control of his hands. "He told me he could bring back..." he shook his head, frown deepening. Castiel, sitting next to him, lay his head against the man's shoulder.

Sam looked at his brother, smiling briefly, tight lipped. "Yeah."

"So..." Mal looked between the two, his own frown growing. "Y'all are in a heap of trouble."

Dean ran a hand down his face, and Sam wrapped a hand around the back of his own neck, both of them sharing the same expression. It was a little eerie to see them looking alike. Bobby landed a hand on the top of Dean's head, then gave Sam a sideways hug.

"We are, yeah." he made a face. "Last time this all happened, all three of us, plus Gabriel, ended up dead. Lucifer managed to kill the three of us, and Michael got Dean."

"Wasn't really dead, just diverted to a different plane of existence and my body was destroyed," Gabriel added, shrugging.

Bobby gave him a look. "Anyways."

"How can I help?" Mal looked around at all of them. "I'm assuming that all of ya are gonna need help with this."

Samandriel raised a hand, looking a bit nervous. "If I may speak?" he paused, then continued as Mal motioned for him to go on. "Zachariah, Naomi, the rest of them, they mean to force the Winchesters into being the vessels once more. They have them contained, up and out of Hell, and essentially tied down. They were waiting to be able to find the Winchesters."

Dean looked like he wanted to try and rip the Angel's wings off. "How long have they had them?"

"For a long while. I do not think that you want to know the exact length of time." Samandriel spoke quietly, not meeting Dean's eyes.

"Oh god." Sam whispered, "It's been nearly as long as we've been dead, hasn't it?"

Samandriel didn't answer him, instead he looked at the floor, shoulders squared up and his eyes focused on his own belt. He looked miserable.

Sam took that as a 'Yes'.

Dean winced, taking a long gulp of the liquid in his cup, then making a face. "Never thought I'd actually feel bad for those two sons-of-bitches."

Zoe looked as shocked as her discipline would allow. "You mean they've been held for-?"

"Nearly six hundred years." Samandriel whispered it, still not looking at anyone. "Raphael announced that they would be bringing them back from Hell. Most of our brothers and sisters believed that is was because they were forgiven, and that our Father had asked for it. Most of them believe that it was his will."

For the first time since the crew of Serenity had met him, Gabriel looked somber. "Does our Father even care anymore?"

"Do you?"

The words were sharp, pointed. Gabriel frowned at his younger Brother. "I do care. I got so tired of caring that I left all of it behind, changed my name, and made myself known as a Trickster, not an Archangel. I left home!" he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Because our Siblings were killing each other, killing humans, destroying everything. I left because of this exact sort of thing. I cared so much that it hurt me to stay."

In that moment, Mal drew back, eyes wide. "And now I can see how you're the Archangel and all that."

Gabriel ignored him, still looking at Samandriel. "Look at me, little Brother. Look at me when I talk to you!"

"You left us."

"I left because I had to!" He was shouting now, eyes blazing gold, hands slammed down. The entire table was bending, the metal and wood protesting at the treatment. "I wish to our Father that that wasn't the case, but it was! I wish I could have taken you and Castiel with me, but if I had tried, they would have known I was still alive and that I was hiding from them!"

Samandriel was meeting his eyes now, looking like he would rather be anywhere but there at that moment. His eyes were locked with Gabriel's, like he was being compelled to look there. He shifted nervously, unconsciously hyperventilating as he stood his ground against the murderously angry and much more powerful Angel in front of him.

"Gabriel?"

Sam spoke quietly, reaching for the shorter being hesitantly, a concerned look on his face, and he shrugged, then grabbed Gabriel's shoulder. "Come here."

Gabriel, still locking eyes with Samandriel, allowed Sam to pull him backwards, into his lap. It took a second longer, but finally he closed his eyes, allowing Samandriel to look away. The younger Angel almost fell over, like an unsupported doll.

Sam kissed Gabriel's forehead, running his fingers through his hair. "Calm down now, alright?"

Nodding, Gabriel curled up in his lap, clutching at his front. "Don't..." he sounded small now, almost the complete opposite of what he had just been. "Don't leave me this time, alright Kiddo?"

Sam wrapped an arm around Gabriel's waist, trying to keep him from falling. "I won't."

"Well then..." Mal turned to where Bobby was trying to get Samandriel back on his feet. He had a hand around the Angel's wrist, the other on his shoulder. Crowley stood next to them, looking hesitant about offering his help.

The comment earlier must have been the thing making him stand back.

Bobby gave Crowley a look, and the Demon held out a hand, looking to the older human for confirmation. Bobby arranged Samandriel between the two of them, and started walking the mostly unresponsive Angel over to a chair.

It took a few minutes, but Samandriel eventually started talking again.

"As I was saying. Our Siblings thought that it was our Father's will. Not a one of them protested when they chained Lucifer and Michael, kept them bound." Samandriel swallowed dryly. "They clipped their wings."

There was a noise of distress from Castiel and Dean automatically raised his hand to the Angel's back, rubbing small circles below his shoulderblades.

"Michael tried to fight it, but Lucifer gave up. They slammed Michael with all they had until Michael lay down." Samandriel shuddered. "They hurt him. I watched, unseen. If I had actually gone in and intervened, I would not be here now."

He turned to Sam, then Dean. "They have been preparing for this for a very long time. You need to be somewhere safe."

"We were." Sam said, mouth drawn into a thin line. "We were stuffed, soul-only, into jars. Death had done up the wards on them, keeping us contained for six hundred years. Not even completely safe there, though."

"Not safe anywhere." Dean sighed. "No matter where we go, the bastards just keep finding us."

"But...That ain't fair! No way ya look at it, that ain't fair!" Kaylee stared at Dean, then looked at Sam. Her bottom lip trembled, like she was going to cry. "Ain't no way that's fair..."

Mal reached back and pulled her to his side, kissing the top of her head. "Ain't that bad, little Kaylee. We're gonna help them, and then you can stop your cryin'."

"Thank you." Sam smiled at Mal, then looked at Kaylee. "We really do need help sometimes, despite Dean saying otherwise."

From her corner, where she sat all curled around herself, River smiled. "Didn't ask to become Ringmaster. The lion is out of his cage and the monkeys are throwing rocks at each other."

"...She's still makin' perfect sense to me. Is that bad? that strikes me as bad." Mal muttered, looking at the younger of the two Tams.

"Still, at least the elephants are marching in time." River giggled, then stood and grabbed Kaylee's hand. "Come with me. Simon wants to talk to you."

"Alright, so what do we do with the folk in the cargo bay?" Mal looked at Bobby, then at Gabriel. "They don't seem like they want to leave you be."

"Why ain't we just gettin' rid of them?" Jayne snarled. "They don't need our loyalty."

Mal looked at the man. "That's an idea."

"I ain't talkin' 'bout them feathery guys. I'm talkin' 'bout them." Jayne gestured at Dean and Sam, then jerked his head at Bobby.

A hand on his holster, Mal glared at Jayne. "Walk away now, Jayne. From what I hear, we don't help them, we all go down."

"Everyone does," Sam muttered. "At least the Apocalypse is predictable..."

Notes:

This was the first Big Story I ever tried to write that wasn't original fiction.

I had 30+ chapters planned. I had pages of notes and drawings on how it would all work. I planned out details, I snuck in a stealth third crossover with Buffy where River was a Slayer in a universe that didn't need one. I planned it for months and months and months, writing and rewriting and stressing out over every part of it. I loved it, I wanted to write it. I watched and rewatched both series, just to try and get the characters as perfect as I could.

I posted the first two chapters to Ff.net.

The first and only comment I got on it was, "Too many plot holes. Not good."

You know that feeling in your stomach when you thought there was one more step in the stairs than there actually was? You feel like you're falling and like you're going to be sick. It's this sort of an icy spread in your gut, you're certain, for just a moment, that you're dying.

That was how that comment felt.

I was seventeen. I was testing out the waters of fanfic writing, I was excited. I hadn't gotten an AO3 account yet, so I was still on Ff.net. And with one review, I was just...Destroyed. I started doubting my planning and my writing. I looked at my drawings and I started feeling like I was the worst content creator in the world.

What was I thinking? No one wanted this crossover except for me.

So I put away my notes, tucked the drawings into a folder and stuck them in storage. I deleted the story off of Ff.net. I wiped every trace of it off the internet.

Now it is here because I wanted someone to remember the excited fanfic dreams of a much younger me with some sort of fondness.

To the people who read fanfic: This is why you don't attack a creator. You're getting something for free and you don't know age or how much work went into it or how much you devastate the writer when you say the wrong thing. If they don't ask for criticism, do not give it. Don't be a dick about someone's writing because you never know what might be the last straw or what will make them stop writing forever.