Series: Crossing Kansas
Episode: Apocalypse Soon
Summary: The end is nigh...
Author: Dani
Rating: PG-13
Beta: strangevisitor7
Spoilers: Up to: SPN: 4.22 & SV: 8.22
A/N: Sorry for the delay!!


The rest of the series can be found HERE.

*Note for dial-up users: images under cut.
 

Before…

---

“Those Winchesters can handle this little apocalypse all on their own. They don’t need their blonde sidekick to do what they were destined to do.”

---

Now…

The apocalypse was nigh, the end was coming fast, they were all doomed, etc. etc.

And yet all Dean could do was sit. Sit and worry and process.

So much had happened in the last few days he felt dizzy. Sam had been thrown into and then had busted out of detox. He was now with Ruby, attempting to stop the apocalypse.

Chloe’s double life as a hunter and hero-coordinator had been exposed. Yet, she was still at Bobby’s, fighting for the hunters’ side. She also still had meteor powers despite belief to the contrary.

And him? He’d signed himself over into the angel’s command. Then managed to destroy the last link between him and his brother.

“Screw this,” Dean groused, standing and moving to the stairs. He could sit around and feel sorry for himself after the end of the world. For now, he had a demon to track down and kill before she killed everyone else.

“Chloe?” he called before walking into her room. He hesitated inside the doorway, catching a flash of sadness in her eyes. “You okay?” he asked as he moved inside. A number of Bobby’s books had made their way into the room and now sat piled around her bed like an ineffective barrier.

She nodded and smiled, running a hand over her eyes as if she expected tears. “Fine. Just thinking.”

“That seems to be the main course of action lately. Think of anything useful?” He sat on the bed parallel to hers and watched her compose herself. He knew the moment her wall snapped back into place, blocking any insecurity from sight. It was scary how good she was at that.

She shook her head. “Nope. Nothing useful. Actually, I haven’t gotten much beyond: ‘Oh God, what are we going to do’.”

He reached over and rested a hand on her knee. “We’ll be fine.”

“Liar,” she stated.

“Pessimist,” he countered.

She offered him a tight smile before navigating the books between the beds to sit next to him. “What are we going to do?”

“Win,” he answered simply.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, catching her gaze. “Yeah.”

“Good…”

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was suddenly in his arms and he didn’t care who’d moved first only where they were moving. With practiced ease, he scooped her up and shifted so he was laying over her on the bed. She made a small noise of surprise but pulled him closer, pushing their kisses deeper than they’d ever gone. Not missing a beat, he moved a hand to her waist and grabbed her shirt, sliding it up the length of her torso.

The end was nigh, they were all screwed (figuratively speaking), etc. etc.

But for the moment, Dean didn’t care. He needed this. He needed her. His world had come to a crashing halt hours earlier. He needed relief.

Her shirt slipped off. His shirt slipped off. Their pants. Bra—

“Dean!”

Dean froze, his arms wrapped around Chloe as he worked to undo the clasp at her back. She blinked, looking up at him in alarm as footsteps sounded on the stairs down the hall.

“Get off,” she hissed, reaching to reclasp her bra.

With a groan of annoyance, Dean obeyed, but not before dropping a kiss on her bare collarbone. “I feel like I’m back in high school,” he groused as he slid back into his jeans, watching appreciatively as Chloe followed suit.

“Your dad walked in on you and a girl?” she teased, pulling her shirt on over her head.

“No. Not my dad.” He smirked. “Room service.”

Chloe’s laugh was cut short as the footsteps neared. Dean shook his head and finished dressing. “So not fair,” he mumbled, offering her a small smile.

She ran a quick hand through her hair and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Later,” she promised, matching his smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean paused. “What if we don’t have a later?” he asked as Bobby knocked on the door.

She just shook her head in mock disapproval. “I thought I was the pessimist in this relationship.”

---

Sam played with his phone, scrolling through his contacts Bobby, Chloe, Dean. He hesitated on Chloe’s name, wondering what she would say if he called. He knew what Bobby and Dean would say—if they’d even answer. But Chloe? He wasn’t sure about her. She might agree with Dean and call him a monster as soon as she answered.

Or maybe not. Maybe she still had hope for him.

Maybe she was the only one who had hope for him, because he certainly had none for himself.

“You gonna call someone, or keep playing with that?” Ruby asked from the driver’s seat.

Sam glared at her before returning his attention to his phone. “I will, if I feel like it.”

“Maybe you should give Chloe a call.”

He tensed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because of all people she’s probably the most qualified for getting through to Dean. You know, put in the good word for you.” Ruby shrugged. “Those two are close, right? Like you and Dean were?”

Were. Past tense. He and Dean had ceased being close months earlier. He wasn’t sure when, exactly, but sometime in the last year their bond had snapped.

“Because you’re going to replace me.”

He’d said it during the failed attempt at detox to a Chloe that had been nothing more than a hallucination, but he couldn’t help believing it was true. He and Dean were done. Chloe was the only one left and he couldn’t expect her to side with him—even if she had hope for him.

“Call her,” Ruby insisted.

Sam shook his head, pocketing his phone. “Just drive.”

He couldn’t make Chloe chose, because he wasn’t worth choosing.

---

“Castiel!”

Chloe paced, looking from Bobby’s house to the junkyard around her. The angel was still MIA and she was growing impatient, but she was out of options. She could either yell herself hoarse or give up on Dean. And she wasn’t about to pick the latter.

Dean had vanished—literally—in the middle of a conversation with Bobby and she could only assume it was the angels doing. Sam had told her about the last time they had grabbed Dean without warning. Only this time, Bobby hadn’t seen any angels just Dean’s vanishing form.

Please be okay, she willed, grimacing at how often she thought that when it came to the Winchesters.

She closed her eyes. “Cass, please.” Over the years, her prayers had morphed from the traditional ones she’d learned in Sunday school to silent requests of safety whenever someone she knew was in danger—which happened more often than she liked.

“You have never called for me before.”

She spun, facing the angel as he appeared behind her. “First time for everything,” she replied. “Where’s Dean.”

“Safe.”

It had been a while since she’d spoken to the angel, but she could still tell something was off with him. He looked hesitant, and he never looked hesitant.

“Where?” she pressed, moving into his personal space.

Castiel shook his head slowly and stepped away from her. “With my superior. We are keeping him there until he is needed.”

“Needed? He’s been needed all year. He’s gotta find Sam and help him stop Lilith.”

“No. He is not needed yet. He will be soon.”

Chloe frowned and moved forward again, grabbing a hold of his jacket. “Fine, then take me to him. I want to see him.”

“Zachariah told you already, you are not a part of our plans. You are not needed. You cannot see Dean.” He frowned, staring down at her with a sudden intensity that threw her for a moment. “You cannot interfere with prophecy.”

She sighed, her grip on his jacket tightening. “You told me that before. And guess what? I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Now tell me where Dean is or I’ll find him myself.” It was an empty threat. She knew it and she suspected Castiel knew it too. If they wanted, the angels could hide Dean from her for forever. No amount of tracking and hacking skills could stand up against the power of Heaven.

She still had to threaten, though. They had to know she wouldn’t give up.

“You are not part of the Winchester Gospel,” Castiel argued. She blinked, watching his gaze soften slightly. “Their destiny has already been written.” He paused and she realized he was telling her more with his eyes than words. “You cannot change it.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving her hand to grasp nothing but air.

“Their destiny has already been written.”

---

The apocalypse was nigh, etc. etc.

And Dean was stuck in some angelic Green Room with nothing but his thoughts.

“He’s your brother, and he’s drowning.”

Or, more accurately, Bobby’s lecture.

The older hunter meant well, but he didn’t understand what he was talking about. Sam wasn’t Sammy anymore. He’d tried reaching out to him and all it had gotten him was bloodied and bruised.

If Sam was through with him that was fine, but he wasn’t about to keep trying to drag him back just to end up in another fist fight. His brother was old enough to go off on his own. He could make his own decisions and live with them.

“You are a better man than your Daddy ever was.”

He sighed, continuing his pacing as he pulled out his phone. He wasn’t going to call Sam. He’d call Chloe and let her know what had happened to him. She was probably freaked by his sudden disappearance.

“So you do both of us a favor: don’t be him.”

Dean shook his head as he played with his phone. Calling Sam wasn’t going to change anything. Sam was a Winchester (even if he didn’t want to be) and they were nothing if not stubborn. If Sam had decided to leave him and his life as a hunter behind, there was no stopping him. He was just going to end up with a big headache for his troubles—

“Screw it.” He flipped open his phone and dialed.

“It’s Sam. Leave me a message.”

---

The door to the ramshackle house opened slowly, and Chloe waved as recognition shone in Chuck’s eyes—it was nice to be recognized even if she wasn’t being written about.

“Chloe? What are you doing here?”

She smiled as she stepped inside. “Let me guess, you didn’t see me coming,” she teased.

Chuck shut the door and led her into his living room. “Ah, no. I didn’t. But you knew that.”

“Yeah. It’s a perk of being unimportant.”

“So, what are you doing here?” he repeated.

Chloe looked around the room. Paper and trash covered one end of the couch and a majority of the floor. The TV in the corner played the news. “Have you written the end?”

“The end? You mean the end of the world?” Chuck asked then nodded. “Yeah. I’m thinking of calling some hookers later and living out the end in style.”

Chloe ignored his comment, moving past him into the kitchen. “Where are they?” she asked, sorting through the paper on his desk. “Sam and Dean? Where are they? Are they hurt? Dead?”

Chuck walked up behind her and pointed to his computer screen. “Dean’s with the angels. At an unknown location. And Sam is on his way to Ilchester, Maryland.”

“What’s in Ilchester?” she asked even as she moved to read the excerpt.

“Lilith and the final Seal before Lucifer,” Chuck explained, standing beside her.

Chloe frowned at what she read. Lilith, a possessed-nurse, deceitful-Ruby. “Oh Sam,” she mumbled, fearing the predicted end. Dean wasn’t with him. Sam was alone with Ruby and the rising Devil. The ending wasn’t clear, but she could only guess the outcome: Sam wasn’t going to survive.

“Yeah,” Chuck nodded. “If I could, I would have killed Ruby off months ago.”

“You cannot interfere with prophecy,” she snarked, offering the author/prophet a tight smile. “St. Mary’s Convent?”

“So much for hallowed ground,” Chuck agreed.

She stepped away from the computer and nodded. “I can stop him.”

“Yeah, because messing with prophecy has worked out so well in the past.”

She frowned at Chuck before returning to the living room. “Nothing is set in stone. I can stop him.” She hesitated as the television caught her attention. Breaking News flashed across the screen, announcing tragedy in Metropolis. “Doomsday,” she muttered, watching the clips of destruction. “Oh no, Clark.”

Chuck moved to her side. “Who’s Clark?”

“A friend from Metropolis. He could be in danger.”

Chuck nodded looking between the television and her. “Looks like you have a choice to make.”

She groaned and shot the author an annoyed look. “Why do people keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true. Sam and Dean’s choices have been made for them. You aren’t destined to do anything. You have a choice.”

She shook her head, moving to the door. “No. I don’t.”

“Those Winchesters can handle this little apocalypse all on their own. They don’t need their blonde sidekick to do what they were destined to do. They’ll be fine. Clark and all those people you care about in Metropolis won’t be.”

---

Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam -- a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back.

Sam closed his eyes as Dean’s words replayed in his head. He’d been right. Dean wasn’t going to forgive him. There was no going back to what they had been.

Might as well do something useful, he thought, attempting to ignore the screams of the possessed nurse behind him. Ruby was getting him all the blood he’d need to take down Lilith. Once he drank it he’d be unstoppable.

But he would also be changed.

He’d told Ruby that he could feel the blood changing him, and he doubted the amount he was about to drink would leave him unaffected. He was becoming a monster. Willingly.

But he was stopping Lilith.

Dean was done with him. He could only assume Bobby and Chloe felt the same. There was nothing left for him except this. He was going to take what Azazel had cursed him with and use it to save the world. To stop the apocalypse.

---

“Sam! Sam! Sammy!” Dean pounded until his hands were throbbing then kept pounding. He had to get through to Sam. He couldn’t let the final Seal break. He couldn’t let his brother bring on the apocalypse.

Laughter sounded from inside and he felt a chill run down his back. “No,” he ground out, giving the door one final pound before turning to look for help. He needed something to bust down the door: a ramrod or an ax—or an extra body.

Anytime now, Chloe, he mused as he grabbed a nearby stand. As far as he knew, Chloe was still at Bobby’s trying to stop the end with nothing but her computer and stubbornness.

He could have used her help, though.

With one last look down the empty hall, he sighed and returned to the closed door. He needed her help, but until she showed up (if she showed up) he was on his own.

---

Dean finally broke through the door and charged.

Ruby stood with a smirk. “You’re too late.”

“I don’t care.”

Ruby’s meat-suit dropped and he was left with his brother.

Sam swallowed, looking more broken and terrified than Dean had seen him in years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his words more of a plea for mercy than an apology.

Dean didn’t say a word, just watched his brother. His brother.

The end was at their feet.

And all Dean could do was stare at his brother.

---

Lilith’s blood continued to circle the convent floor and the two brothers beside it stood oblivious—or uncaring. For the moment all that mattered was the rift between them. The rift that, moments earlier, had seemed unmendable.

Suddenly, the pattern of blood completed and light burst from the center. The floor shook as the blinding light grew brighter and coated the room with its brilliance. Dean turned to his brother urging him into action. Acting on an instinct instilled in them since childhood, they reached out and grabbed for each other, longing for safety in the one person that mattered most. “Sammy, let’s go,” Dean insisted, urging his brother into action.

But Sam didn’t move, just stared at the growing light. Fear flickered in his eyes as he watched the end erupt from the convent floor.

“He’s coming.”   

Chuck shook his head as he crossed out his work. It wasn’t right—not anymore. In the past, his visions had never changed. There had never been a do-over of what was to come—until now.

“Nothing is set in stone.”

After Castiel and Dean had arrived at his apartment, his vision of the end of the world had changed. Lucifer still broke free, but in the end, the Sam and Dean had been standing side-by-side, together again. Dean hadn’t stopped the final Seal, but he’d found his brother.

But the end had changed again.

With a sigh he set to work, rewriting as he had newly envisioned (prophesied?):

Lilith’s blood continued to circle the convent floor and the two brothers beside it stood oblivious—or uncaring. For the moment all that mattered was the rift between them. The rift that, moments earlier, had seemed unmendable.

“Sam? Dean?”

Both brothers looked up in surprise as someone joined them. Relief and fear fought for position in her eyes as she watched them stand on the cursed ground. Wordlessly, she moved to stand in front of them, looking expectantly from one brother to the other.

It was unusual for her to be silent, but the moment called for it. Lucifer was rising behind them. Words were meaningless. With determination, the newcomer reached forward and grabbed a hold of each man, gesturing to the door with her head, a clear suggestion of departure.

Before anyone could move, the pattern of blood completed and white light burst suddenly from the center. The floor shook as the blinding light grew brighter and coated the room with its brilliance. All three shared a mutual look of fear, sensing the end. The woman’s grip on the men tightened as the brothers reached for each other, longing for safety in the person that mattered most.

Linked, they formed their own circle, mirroring the one growing behind them.

“Let’s go,” Dean insisted, not in the mood to think about matching circles and their respective links. He pulled, urging the group towards the door, but Sam remained rooted where he stood, stopping the three of them from moving further. Terror flickered in his eyes as he watched the end erupt from the convent floor.

Beside him, his companions froze as well. The oncoming horror mesmerizing them momentarily.

“He’s coming,” Sam whispered.

The woman shook her head in silent regret. She was too late. She hadn’t stopped anything. The end was coming and she hadn’t changed a thing.

If she only knew.

To Be Continued…