justforspite: (Jenny B&W)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Chapter Three
Cry ‘Havoc’ and Let Slip the Dogs of War


“Sam?” Dean called to his right, glancing away from the almost empty stretch of highway and taking stock of his quiet brother. Sam stared out his window, silently observing the passing of random trees. The hunger and need and pain had dissipated from its initial intensity to a low buzzing under his skin and remained a barring presence in his mind. Whatever the Archangel had done, she’d blocked the worst of it, but it was still there forcing him to curl in on himself in the passenger’s seat of the Impala. Not really hearing Dean, all Sam could see was Ruby’s face and hear her voice over the last year as she lied and betrayed him. She’d lied and Dean was right; he always had been right about her. He knew not to trust her and all Sam did was hand himself over to her. Demons lie. How many times had he been told that? How many times had that been drilled into his mind? How many arguments and fights had he had with Dean because he was defending her?
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Chapter Two
Brunch


Sam Winchester opened his eyes to the faint light of the dawn streaming across his face. A little bearded man in square, horn-rimmed glasses was hovering over him. Bolting up, Sam twisted around, reacquainting himself with his surroundings. When had he gotten here? He could barely—

“Yeeeah, you had minor-ish, maybe loosely definable as major meltdown,” Chuck said, his hands in his robe’s pockets. He looked as if he’d been awake a week and was only surviving out of his coffee pot. But he was smiling. Sam had never seen the Prophet so happy and . . . “Calm,” Chuck said in answer to Sam’s unspoken thoughts. His voice and manner seemed to define the word. “Sorry, I squeaked out a couple of pages last night so this is all reruns to me. Wrote all the way up to brunch.”

“What?”

Chuck pinched his features. “She does brunch. It’s weird. Doesn’t have to eat but she does brunch,” he shrugged.
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justforspite: (Jenny B&W)

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Chapter One
The White Storm


“He’s coming,” Sam exhaled, barely breathing, fear closing off his body and mind. The end of the world was here and it was all his fault. Dean was right; the voicemail playing over and over in his mind. He was a monster, hoisted up by his own ego and need to prove his tainted soul worthy. “I’m so sorry,” he said, repeating himself in a half-strangled voice. The words just didn’t seem enough.

Gripping the bloodied knife in his hand, Dean couldn’t take a moment to steel his courage. Everything was moving so fast and spinning out of control. This, right here, was Ground Zero for Armageddon and if he’d just been less of a dick and reached out to Sam instead of pushing him away, things could have been different. He’d started this mess and in confronting Sam the way he’d done he’d precipitated it. This was all his fault.

“Sam, get behind me!” He barked, positioning himself before the great and swirling vortex that seemed to get bigger every second. Staring into the brilliant white center of the maelstrom, Dean knew this was it. This was the end.

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justforspite: (Jenny B&W)

Like you didn't know there would be fic here :)

Post Lucifer Rising.
Rated PG13-R for language

Prologue
The Winter Queen


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June 2009

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