Chapter Text
And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal. It had a great, high wall with twelve gates, and with twelve angels at the gates. On the gates were written the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. There were three gates on the east, three on the north, three on the south and three on the west. The wall of the city had twelve foundations, and on them were the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.
The angel who talked with me had a measuring rod of gold to measure the city, its gates and its walls. The city was laid out like a square, as long as it was wide. He measured the city with the rod and found it to be 12,000 stadia in length, and as wide and high as it is long. The angel measured the wall using human measurement, and it was 144 cubits thick. The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth ruby, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth turquoise, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst. The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.
I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there.
-- Revelation 21
Jimmy wakes up slowly, blinking in the thin light of the early morning, pale grey through the curtain of the room. The blazing image of the new Jerusalem is still shining in the lingering memory behind his eyelids. He tries hard to remember the details of the holy city, the light and shiny reflections of its walls and ground, the place that doesn't need sun or moon to shine on it, the place with all light and no night -- but the dream slips through his mind like water through open fingers.
He turns on the lamp, and finds one of his hands resting on the Bible on his bedside stand. It must be where the dream comes from, then. He thinks distantly. With all these years of praying and believing, for once, he is granted a vision. However brief, it must be a sign, a reward, to allow him to have a glimpse of the great glory after the ending.
Amelia stirs next to him. "What time is it now?" she mumbles dreamily.
"Still early," Jimmy answers quietly. His wife sinks back to sleep before he can say anything else -- he can tell from the rhythm of her breath.
The vision of the dream fades over the grey image of the ceiling. He finds it difficult to remember the color of the light or the wall of the glorious city now. He leaves the bed quietly and changes into his usual suit before heading outside.
The sky is grey with thick cloud covering from one end of the horizon to the other, darker over the edge. The ground is as pale as the canopy. And he knows it wouldn't change much even after a few hours when the sun should be rising. He hasn't seen the sun for many days now, and the sky has never cleared since the day the news said St. Mary's Convent in Ilchester, Maryland, exploded in a strong beam of light. No one knows what is happening to the world, but the popular rumor is that the end is nigh, and the apocalypse is coming.
But it could also be just an accidental gas explosion and some change in the climate.
Jimmy takes a deep breath, putting his hands together before his chest, facing the sky with his eyes closed. Bless the world, oh, Lord, and thy angels, he prays, concentrating on the scrap of memory of the dream, and ourselves to thy loving service that we may always continue in thy faith and fear to the honor and glory of thy name.
The news from yesterday also said Detroit has seen a panic wave among city people. Many stores were broken into by people believing the apocalypse theory; there were some number of injuries, fire accidents, and an outbreak of city-wide outage. The city governor has announced an emergency curfew. Jimmy turned off the TV last night before the reporter could finish. The panic wave hasn't reached Pontiac, Illinois, but he doesn't know if or when it might happen to them. The neighborhood is blissfully quiet around him right now.
He demands his wandering thought come back to the moment, to the sky and angel, to the bright light in the dream. He adds to the prayer, May the world be a peaceful place to live, and may my family be safe. Amen.
When he opens his eyes, the sky over his head opens, and a heavenly bright light dawns over his head. Jimmy starts, looking up at the light, but it's so bright that his eyes are hurting with a rising heat at the back of the sockets. He has to shut his eyes tight, panicking over what is happening.
The high-pitched voice sounds up right then, answering him, "Do you give yourself to the angels?" The voice is as if it comes from the sky and from the deepest of his brain at the same time. His eardrums vibrate with the pitch, ringing with echoes even when the voice is not speaking, threatening to break but miraculously not.
Jimmy knows it must be the angels. The angels are real. He knows it. He knows it all along.
"What does that mean?" he has to ask. He thinks about the lamb and the sacrifice from the Book. But surely he is plain enough not to be asked to be that, isn't he?
"The Apocalypse is coming," the angel answers. "The army of Michael will fight the army of Lucifer, the Devil."
"Revelation 12:7," Jimmy murmurs, knowing every line to the heart.
"More like 20:7," the angel says plainly. "The thousand years are over, and Lucifer will be released from his prison. What happened a thousand years ago will happen again. War will break out again, and this time, when Heaven wins, the Devil will be thrown into the lake of burning sulfur to be tormented forever."
Jimmy takes a slow breath, digesting. It is one thing to believe the angels are real, that Heaven and Hell exist, but completely another to realize it's literal, that the war and therefore probably the wrath of the Lord might actually land on Earth. Let alone he's talking to one at the moment. He rubs his eyes and glances up again. The light from the sky is still over his head, enveloping him and him alone in the pale yard in front of his house.
"Which angel are you?" Jimmy asks tentatively, then hurriedly adds timidly, "If I may ask."
"Castiel, Angel of the Lord," the angel says. The voice is growing lower and more rapid, as if he is getting impatient. Jimmy flinches at the solemnness in the pitch.
"Will you give yourself up to me, Jimmy Novak? I need a vessel to fight the war. You will play a part in this war," the voice presses.
Jimmy thinks for a beat, but he dares not to let the angel in the light wait for too long. But there is just one more question that has to be asked, "Why me?"
"It is in your blood," Castiel says briefly.
What does that mean? Jimmy thinks, but doesn't ask this time. The angel will let him know what he needs to know, and this is for the best for the world, right? At the end of the day, they're talking about Revelation, about Heaven's victory, about the New Heaven and a New Earth, if all is to be believed from the Book.
He closes his eyes briefly, and finds the image of the Holy City comes back to him. It is what will happen if he does this, he realizes -- the city shining with the glory of God, brilliant like a jasper, clear as crystal and glass; the city so bright and full of light that no sun or moon is needed, and it has no night. When Heaven wins the war against the Devil, it will be paradise on Earth -- everyone will be peaceful and happy. He believes it -- no, he knows it. He doesn't question where the vision comes from.
"I do this, my family, will they be safe and granted to the new world once it all finishes?" Jimmy gathers his courage to ask one last question.
"Yes," Castiel says without pause.
"Then, yes." Jimmy faces the direction of the light, closing his eyes.
Even with his eyes closed, he can feel the stream of power envelop him. The air sizzles with electricity. His hair stands on end when a gush of wind whirls around him, blowing the skirt of his trench coat flying. The electricity passes from the air to his skin, then crawls into his veins, flowing across his body, sinking deeper into his bones.
He suddenly feels too hot and too cold at the same time under his skin, and then, he doesn't feel anything. He is sitting in the living room on the armchair in his house, looking at a TV screen. The screen shows the neighborhood block under the grey sky. The image starts moving, and he realizes it must be the angel -- Castiel -- starting to walk away, in his body, with his feet. It's an odd feeling, as if sitting in the passenger's seat of a car that's yours since birth.
"Castiel?" he tries tentatively, unsure if the angel can still hear him. His own voice vibrates in the small space of the imagined living room from his memory. It looks real enough, since he knows all the insides and outsides of that house they lived for ten years, but it's just his memory -- it's not real in that he knows if he tries one of the closed doors, he won't find a connected bedroom with his wife sleeping on their bed, or his daughter doing homework in her room. -- Oh God, he forgets to even leave them a note or message before he lets Castiel walk away with his body; they'd be worried sick and think he just goes missing.
"Castiel?" Jimmy tries again, in a louder voice and talking to the TV screen this time -- not knowing why, but it feels like the only thing connected to the outside, probably to the same street view that Castiel is seeing. "Sorry, but, is there any chance you may allow me to leave a message for Amelia, my wife? Just to let my family know where I'm going, that I'll be okay."
"No." Castiel's stiff voice passes through the radio that he used to have over the mantel. The voice sounds a little like his own, but twisted, so much lower and colder that he doesn't register at first. It might be because the radio just tends to twist people's voices? Jimmy quickly explains to himself. But the quick and absolute rejection is still taking him aback.
"No?" Jimmy blinks. "Why not? It wouldn't take more than a minute."
The vision on the TV screen is still moving fast away from his house, faster than a normal human's walking pace. Jimmy wonders briefly how his body is capable of moving at that speed.
"Because," Castiel gives a meaningful pause, then, in a scolding tone, "if I do this, what's next? Buy your daughter a fruit cake? Pet your neighbor's dog?" His voice cold and harsh.
Jimmy blinks again, sinking back into his easy chair in front of the TV in dismay. The angel is different from what he thought.
Castiel continues harshly, "In case you forget, we're on the verge of an Apocalypse, and there is a war to fight. I don't have time for any petty human things. And another warning ahead, you shouldn't talk about things you don't understand -- I'm sure there will be many things you won't understand and I don't expect you to -- you're just a human, after all. You should just go to sleep or whatever you do in your head."
The radio falls quiet as the angel finishes.
Jimmy rubs his eyes again. It starts to feel like a bad decision.
He feels bone tired. But he doesn't even have a body to feel tired.
Jimmy slumps in the easy chair, watching the TV screen shifting in and out idly, not knowing what else to do. The signal gets worse when the angel moves too fast -- at least that's his assumption right now. Or perhaps Castiel is blocking him out, not letting him see the outside world. He wouldn't know, but Jimmy prefers to believe it's the former.
The screen was showing a static snowflake image for the last few hours, or maybe it's just minutes. He loses the sense of time as well. The clock on the wall hasn't moved ever since he came into this space that only exists in his head.
He has paced around the space for ten rounds, if not more, and every time he passes the main door of the house, he wonders if he should try the door or find a way to take a look at the outside, and what will happen if he does. And every time there is a tiny voice in his head nudging him not to do that, that's a bad idea, and the angel won't be happy about it. So he listens to it, circling back to the center of the living room.
He tries to close his eyes, too. Going to sleep, like Castiel instructed. Maybe he did fall into sleep, maybe he just rested his eyes (that are not really there or need rest) for however long it passed. He doesn't know either way. It's frustrating. The view is the same after he comes to again.
There is no dream, either. He misses it.
For the majority of the time when he's awake, Jimmy spends them thinking about things from the past, memories of Amelia and Claire, or reciting line by line the Holy Bible. He finds it soothing to go over the lines that tell the glory and victory in the aftermath of the disasters and catastrophes. Maybe this isn't a bad decision after all.
And then, the TV screen changes. The image shifts from static snowflakes to pure black.
Jimmy sits on the carpeted floor right in front of the TV screen like a child asking for more screen hour, tilts his head and squeezes his eyes, trying to understand what it is that he's looking at. The darkness almost looks like Castiel has his eyes closed in his sleep, except that he knows angels don't sleep.
Something flies by before the view -- flying upward, to be exact. The blackness is disturbed by the movements without shapes, like ripples on a water surface but the pebbles disturbing it are already sunken and can't be seen. The shadows of shapes move past him, all flying upward. Then something burning like a fireball, also flashes upward, leaving a tail of light trail. That's when Jimmy realizes it is them, descending.
"Where are we going?" Jimmy asks, nervous.
No answer.
From the speed of their dropping, they must be going down to somewhere really, extremely deep. And what is so deep down in the earth, if they are not talking geographically? The question answers itself --
Hell.
Castiel is taking them to Hell.
Because, of course Hell is real. Just as literal as Heaven and angels.
Jimmy shivers.
As soon as the thought comes to him, the smell of sulfur permeates the room. The fireplace in the room starts burning with red-black fire, the dark flame bobbling ominously, as if Hell is also literally infiltrating his head, instead of just encompassing his body from the outside.
Their descent slows down as they drop deeper. Jimmy can tell from the speed of other shadows surrounding them. And shortly, they are not just surrounding. The black shadows lurch toward him.
"Castiel!" Jimmy yells out reflexively.
In the blink of an eye, a flash of a blade cuts the closest shadow in half. The shadow looks more like a vaguely twisted human-shaped smoke now, in this short distance. And from the place where the blade sliced it, golden light leaps to burn the rest of it to ashes. Only then does Jimmy see the blade Castiel's hand -- his own hand -- is holding.
"What's that?!" Jimmy gasps.
"Demons," Castiel answers stoically, voice coming through the radio like before. "Angel blade can kill them, or I can smite them."
"Why?" Jimmy's breath hitches. "Why are we coming to Hell?"
Castiel isn't patient enough to tend to his curiosity. "Shush, you're very loud today. I need all my power for this mission, so I can't mind your business. Be quiet. Distract me again, and you will regret it."
Jimmy stares at the TV screen with wide eyes, biting his lower lip.
He's just trying to help. He wants to say. But on the second thought, just in case it also gets counted as "distracting", he might as well not say anything at all. He trusts the angel knows what he's doing.
He doesn't sign up for going to Hell or facing demons when he said "yes" to Castiel. Not even the Book mentions anything about demons, only the Devil and the angels that follow him. Jimmy thinks distantly. But, of course, the angel has no obligation to inform him of any of that and is totally capable of handling the demons on his own.
Jimmy tries to relax the muscle on his imaginary shoulder, but his imaginary body is still tense. He can still feel his heart beating fast in his chest.
Castiel continues fighting his way downward. More and more demons besiege them, and each and every one of them gets sliced and killed. Some of them might finally get a grasp on his body, digging long cuts into his flesh. Jimmy feels a numb pain at the far tip of his consciousness, like a throbbing bruise dulled down from a numb limb. The sensation dies down quickly, turning into an itch, then heals. But another layer on it shortly, then another. The healing doesn't keep up as fast, and the sensation accumulates, turning into a paper cut, then a sharp knock, then a cold hollow feeling. He can't feel his arms and legs anymore, but he knows Castiel is still moving them, faster than his brain can apprehend. He trusts -- he wishes -- the angel is taking care of his body.
Jimmy wonders how far down they still have to go and if Hell really is a bottomless Pit as the Book describes.
But he bites his tongue, literally, just not to say anything, not to distract the angel, even though he really just wants to help.
The wave of demonic attacks thickens. On the dark background of Hell's downward passageway, Jimmy can't see exactly how many demons are encircling them, but Castiel's move is slowing down. He wonders if the angel sees the demon differently from his celestial eyes.
And then, there is an explosion of light. The light starts from the center of the view, like the cold blue flame at the periphery of a burning gas fire. It fills the whole vision in a blink, bursting inside and outside at the same time. Jimmy feels a gush of power rushing through the room he's in and his whole consciousness, shoving him to fly into the wall at the far end and drop violently to the floor. A photo frame on the mantel falls to the floor and shatters. It's that confusing sensation of cold and hot pulse flowing through his veins again. The tips of his nerves quiver in the burst of energy.
When he settles down and looks at the view through the TV screen again, the demons around them are all burned and cleared out. Jimmy wonders for a brief second why Castiel didn't use the killing blow earlier, and also immediately, the sharp sensation from his skin and body rushes into his consciousness, overwhelming his mind. After the vast explosion of grace, it feels like a barrier is removed between his body and his mind. The pain is acute.
Jimmy moans at the pain that he's never felt before, staggering in his standing stance, crushed down to the floor, for he can feel both his legs must be broken during the fight. So are his arms. The body must have been cut, bitten, stabbed, and twisted out of place. Jimmy can't really see his own body, and Castiel doesn't seem to bother fixing any of that, as long as the parts are sticking together, but the pain sensors in his body are still functioning. And all the sharp aching sensation is passing right to his consciousness.
Jimmy has to cover his mouth, just in case any of the moaning sound passes to Castiel's ears, just in case he annoys the angel. If he's the only one in his body, he's sure he would be falling to the ground, trembling in cold sweat, and fainting out -- no, if he's only a human, he must have already been killed a thousand times. Jimmy doesn't know if he should hate or thank Castiel.
They land on solid ground, eventually, without any more obtrusion.
It seems Hell does have a deepest Pit.
An old man grins with bad, rotten teeth, greeting darkly, "Angel."
Castiel answers, undisturbed, as if not noticing anything off with that body, "Demon."
"Not any demon," the old man corrects. He blinks, and his eyes and pupils turn to glassy yellow. "Azazel, at your service."
"Abomination," Castiel answers smoothly, not caring enough to use the demon's name. "Where is the Righteous Man?"
Jimmy focuses so much on the scene before him, that he temporarily forgets about the pained and wounded body. The demon named Azazel looks completely different from the other shapeless smoke-looking demons they have encountered before -- just looking at his face, Azazel can almost pass as a human, if not counting his creepy yellow eyes, which makes the view a hundred times worse. Those eyes almost look as if they are looking right past the eyes of Castiel, the eyes of his body, seeing through the fake TV screen and staring into Jimmy's consciousness, as if Azazel knows full well that he's in there. Jimmy drags himself behind the sofa, trying vainly to find some protection from the demon's eyes. The room feels colder and darker than earlier.
Castiel, Jimmy thinks, not sure if it's a desperate wish or prayer, and he finds himself wordless about what to say. He rushes a thought, Please be safe.
Castiel doesn't show any sign of hearing his thoughts. He takes a step forward, closing the distance.
The demon is in a body about the same height as his.
Azazel grins wider, all the uneven and pointy teeth at the back of his mouth glinting dangerously. "My, my, where's the manner? It's been a thousand years since we see any angel down here. Thought you'd fancy a tea -- did we not work together all those past months to handle the seals? Or is it above your pay grade, and you're merely an errand boy?"
Castiel raises the blade in his hand, the view brightening a few degrees, lighting up the darkness around them with an illumination coming from his own body. Jimmy can see black and red blood streaming down from his own arms, dripping along the blade, falling back into the darkness.
The angel says, in a menacing tone, "I don't have all day. You can either give me the man we need, or I'll just find him myself."
Azazel shrugs carelessly. "Such impatience and no fun. Direct to the business, are we? Fine, you'll find him right --" he snaps a finger, "-- here."
Half a dozen torches start burning before them, showing a dimly lit room with a torture rack in the center. A wrecked body is bound to the rack, and a demon is cutting through the body with the sharpest and longest blade Jimmy has ever seen. The man on the rack is howling in pain and torture, and the demon is laughing hysterically. The mixed sound of laughter and cry gives Jimmy cold shivers and goosebumps all over.
Jimmy has to take a long deep breath to calm down his frantic heart. It is the most horrifying scene he's ever seen -- he doesn't even watch horror movies! -- but at least, good news for the man, the angel is here for him now. He almost feels relieved; at least he knows the angel is doing some good, saving poor people from Hell -- he is part of something good.
Castiel walks toward the rack. His voice prudent, "John Winchester?"
The demon turns his head, laughing even wilder. "Haven't heard that name in a million years," he says in a low croaked voice. His eyes and pupils are filled with black without any white.
Jimmy's heart sinks. He can barely piece together the demon's face to see the human that it once was. But he can still see that John -- if it's really him, if it's still him -- is young, so young, perhaps right out of school or troops, twenty and some change.
Azazel comments behind them, enjoying the same view. "It's actually five thousand years down here, dear. But I get it, it feels longer when you're enjoying it too much, am I right?"
The demon returns him with a grin, turning back to the torturing job that he was working on. The body on the rack twitches and squirms, letting out a shrieking howling of pain. The demon blocks most of the view, but Jimmy can still see the skin is cut open on that poor tortured man through the chest to the stomach. The demon starts stabbing the gut and organs, his laughter louder than the victim's scream.
Jimmy shivers with horror, pressing a fist in his mouth to steady himself.
Castiel lowers his eyes, considering.
Azazel continues to blatter, "I don't know why Upstairs still bothers; he's completely one of us now. The first seal is broken anyway; we get what we want, you get what you want. Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt. Everyone's happy, I deserve my reward. Honestly, it's not easy. You know how many centuries I have to spend teaching him how to pick up a razor?"
Castiel ignores him and starts walking outside. "He is broken beyond saving now," he convicts. "I will inform the General. It's not ideal, but we can work without him. Now, for my second order and the last step to complete the mission, where is Lilith?"
"Wait, you're leaving?" Jimmy can't stop himself from calling out. "There's still a man there! Being tortured! Even that demon, he used to be a man! You can still save them!"
Castiel keeps walking. The vision gets darker.
"Castiel!" Jimmy yells at the TV screen, putting two hands on the TV frame, shaking it. "I thought you're an angel! I thought you were here to save people! Save them, please!"
"Quiet!" The radio bursts out with Castiel's outrageous voice. So loud and high-pitched that it buzzes Jimmy's ears. The decorative windows in the living room crack under the vibration of the sound, before breaking into pieces and flying apart.
"No!" Jimmy covers his ears but doesn't want to give up just yet. The image and sound of the man's cry and the demon's laughter -- the human named John Winchester, the righteous man -- are still too vivid in his memory. He knows if he just lets Castiel walk out of here, he will dream of them in nightmares from now on for eternity every time he closes his eyes. "Doesn't the God say, 'Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act.'?"
"What did I warn you? Do not comment on things you don't understand," Castiel snaps. "Father is not here. I am. And no, there's no point. Michael told me to bring him his Sword, but if it's too broken and stained, he'll just go ahead to find another. So be it, this is the order."
"But --" Jimmy still tries.
"James Gregory Novak, shut up!" the angel cuts him off harshly, and the rage is audible in his voice. "Do not defy me."
Jimmy grimaces, retracting his hands like the frame burns, stepping back from the TV and away from the radio. The lines in the Book about the divine rage and God's wrath flash through his mind.
At the same time, a sharp pain that's way worse than those from the wounds and cuts earlier rushes through his nerves, burning him as if his whole body and soul are being placed on fire, sizzling and prickling as if every inch of his nerves has a long, sharp needle buried underneath and pressing deeper by each second. Jimmy curls on the floor and shakes involuntarily, gasping and panting, holding himself tight. But nothing helps. He doesn't even know where it comes from -- whether it's the body that he doesn't have control over, or his mind.
"I told you there would be punishment and consequence if you do not behave or ever try to interfere," Castiel's ruthless voice comes through, cold and cruel.
"I'm sorry," Jimmy screams in between the shaking. "I'm sorry!"
Jimmy doesn't really know exactly when the pain eases. He thinks his consciousness must have blacked out. And by the time he comes to, he only feels cold. The smell of sulfur in the room is so thick that he thinks if it is real, he must have gotten poisoned by the chemical by now. It is Hell outside and inside.
The TV screen shows long, endless spiral stairs heading downwards. Castiel is walking down those steps, led by Azazel. The space is only lit by the shaking torch in Azazel's hand.
Where are we going? Jimmy thinks. But he is wise enough not to voice it now. His teeth are still chattering in the remnant of pain.
"Lord Lucifer would be so glad to see you," Azazel glances over his shoulder, grinning. "I mean, an angel coming to rescue? I really thought it would be a human or one of us, you know. I just lost twenty souls to Lilith, 'cause I was betting on that lovely wife, Mary, to come down here for it."
"I'm doing it on Michael's order," Castiel announces grimly.
"Sure, sure, whatever you say," Azazel turns back, leading the way. "But at the end of the day, you'll still be known as the angel that let Lucifer out. I don't know what the humans would think about that, but we demons? We owe you big, a silk banner with your name on it."
"For Christ's sake, we don't care what the humans think," Castiel snaps impatiently. "Will you shut up and just lead the way? Or do I have to burn your brain out and open the Cage myself? I can do that too. Gladly."
"I thought you still needed me to find Lilith," Azazel gloats.
Castiel grumbles, "I can kill my way to find her, too, if I have to."
But even Jimmy can hear the reluctance in his voice. Azazel doesn't push.
"Wait, what? Open the Cage yourself?" Jimmy can't help noticing, and he gasps again. "You are going to be the one starting the Apocalypse?"
"Apocalypse isn't going to start itself, is it?" Castiel's voice comes through sarcastically.
"No, but..." Jimmy's thought trails away. It feels wrong, but it does get mentioned in the Revelation that the Devil will come out of the prison after a thousand years. It just never occurs to him how, let alone who would make it happen. He wouldn't dare to dream it being himself in another thousand years.
"What did I say about objections and distractions?" Castiel warns him lowly.
"Sorry," Jimmy apologizes hastily, already rushing toward the easy chair, ready to hold his body, as if preparing for another wave of pain. But fortunately not this time.
It almost feels like eternity before they reach the end of the stairs. The dark surrounding feels even darker and more doomful, if it's even possible.
A cubical Cage is hanging in the space, high over their heads, bound by all the thickest and strongest iron chains, carved with symbols and letters. A demon stands below it, guarding.
She turns around when she hears their footsteps echo in the space. A bright smile crawls onto her face.
"Finally," she says brightly. "I thought you winged monkeys missed our signal flares."
"I'm the one suggested St. Mary's Convent," Azazel amends, proudly. "Just some personal preference. Oh, and a memorial place where I talked with Father."
"Enough talking," Castiel snaps. "We did not miss the signal. It is time-consuming to get all the other seals ready until this last one, and have a cooperative host to manifest on the Earth and below to perform the task. Now, Lilith, the first Abomination and the final seal --"
The demon named Lilith, who, from Jimmy's view, looks nothing other than a young, innocent girl in a pure white dress, smiles with a peaceful smile, looking into Castiel's eyes, and just so happens, meeting Jimmy's too. She looks beautiful and calm, and so, so, human -- if not counting the foggy white demon eyes.
Jimmy's heart skips a beat. He's not going to kill her, is he? Or in this case, is Castiel?
"I'm ready," Lilith announces, looking up at the Cage, opening her arms, like a little girl embracing the spring wind, or letting the light of autumn sun shine on her face. She closes her eyes.
Jarringly, Jimmy thinks she almost looks like Claire. His daughter might be just like that in a few years. He can imagine her wearing a similar silken white dress, standing in a park somewhere, letting the wind blow the skirt, enjoying the sun. His heart clenches. All he can see now is Claire standing before him, waiting to be executed cold-bloodedly.
Castiel marches toward her, with the angel blade raised high in his hand.
"No!" Jimmy yells suddenly.
Castiel's steady stride trips one step, his pace interrupted. But he carries on wordlessly.
The image of Lilith zooms larger in the vision by each second as he approaches.
"No!! You're not killing her. Stop!" Jimmy grabs the edge of the TV screen, focusing on his body, on his feet that are moving forward, on his hand that is holding the angel blade.
His body comes to a jolt.
"What's the matter?" Lilith opens her eyes, glancing at them.
"Trouble in that vessel?" Azazel observes keenly and sneers. "Didn't take you to be one who can't handle a little human."
"Jimmy, stop!" The murderous voice of the angel thunders in the imaginary living room, as if it doesn't just come from the radio, but from the wall, the ceiling, the air, everywhere. The whole space shakes with the volume. The house trembles, so does Jimmy
Jimmy has to loosen his grip to use his hands to cover his ears. "She's just a little girl. I can't kill her, not with my hands."
"She's not, she's a demon!" Castiel's thunderous voice shakes the space again. "And you're not, I'm doing it."
"It's still my body," Jimmy argues.
"Not anymore, you give it to me," Castiel reminds him.
"I can take it back," Jimmy blurts out.
"You don't mean it," Castiel warns dangerously. "Do you forget the pain fighting with me can give you?"
Jimmy flinches with the reminded muscle memory of the pain.
With that split second of distraction, Castiel takes back control of the body and stabs the angel blade into the heart of Lilith.
She laughs as golden bright light bursts out of her body, igniting her bones and flesh. Blood flows from the wound and winds on the ground like it has a life of its own, drawing a twisted sigil that looks like an ancient spell that Jimmy has absolutely no idea what it means. The pattern forms into a spider web, then branches like a sprouting twig, until it completes the circle and starts flaring from the center.
Azazel lowers the torch, staring at the pattern with open fascination. "Oh Father, it's beautiful."
Castiel takes a step back, watching the Cage closely.
Light that is a million times brighter than Castiel's when he entered Jimmy's body or the one that burned Lilith bursts out from the center of the blood sigil, beaming straight upward, tearing the dark space open, locking into the bottom of the Cage. It glows brighter and brighter as if a drill is trying to punch through the barrier of the Cage.
Until eventually, the brightest light that is like a supernova explosion blasts from the Cage.
That is when Jimmy closes his eyes, not wanting to see anything anymore. The Devil is out; the Apocalypse started; his hand has killed a girl and left two men rotten in Hell. What else does he need to know?