Epilogue

Final Meetings

It was a little after midnight.

Heavy fog had rolled in an hour or so ago, shrouding the fields in a blanket of smoke that hid everything from sight. The air itself seemed thick and heavy underneath it. On the horizon the pregnant moon hung low, her belly rotund and glaringly bright against the onyx sky.

Walter Kircsh leaned back against the headrest and nudged the steering wheel to the left. The winding road beyond the reach of the headlamps was lost in the oppressive blanket of dark, disappearing into the abyss of nightfall as if it had never existed.

The man stifled a yawn, blinking the gritty sensation of sleep deprivation from his eyes. Exhaustion was wearing heavily on him and he cursed himself for not stopping in the town he’d passed an hour ago. What he would give for a warm motel bed and a nice hot meal – Christ, even a damn shower wouldn’t go amiss.

Scrubbing his fingers over his tired lids, he cranked the window down and turned the radio on, hoping both would keep him alert enough to reach a safe stopping place. Mid-way through some chart topping mind-numbingly dull pop song, the radio sprung to life, the soft orange glow from panel illuminating the front of the car.

Why the hell did I agree to do this damn presentation?

Walter had been asking himself that question for the last fifty miles. Somehow he knew he had been duped into it by his boss. He wasn’t sure how, but then his boss was a master manipulator. Walter had seen him talk clients into buying everything bar the damn kitchen sink – he was pretty sure Jeff could even sell that to some unsuspecting sap if he wanted to. He was an asshole through and through but he was amazing at his job. Walter had been in Sales for long enough to recognise a pro when he saw one at work.

His attention was diverted from his musing by the radio cutting in and out suddenly.

Frowning, he reached down and pushed the button to change the station but the stereo continued to jump on and off before it went completely dead.

Great! Another sixty miles to go with no radio! Could things possibly get any worse?

Walter had no sooner thought those words when the engine spluttered. The car coughed once, attempting to restart, before it gave a shuddering death rattle and rolled to a halt, the headlamps extinguishing.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” He muttered irritably under his breath. It was pitch black outside. The moon had seemingly disappeared behind the clouds and the road was cloaked in shadows.

Scowling, the man reached across the passenger seat and dragged open the glove compartment, pulling a flashlight out. Twisting the torch in his hand, he flicked the switch on and was grateful for the thin slice of white illumination.

Climbing slowly out of the car, Walter shone the beam around landscape. The road itself was surrounded by trees that seemed to fade into the distance like dirty smudges on a dark page and there was no sign of life in any direction.

He dug in his pocket and pulled his cell phone out and held back a scream of frustration. Not even one lousy bar. Great. He was stuck in the middle of god knows where and apparently he was also in a cell phone black hole.

Walter resisted the urge to kick the crap out of his car. What a place to break down! He’d passed through several small towns and yet the heap of junk had given out in the middle of frigging nowhere.

What the hell was it they said about sods law? Oh yeah, it stinks.

Exhaling irritably, he bent down into the driver’s seat and fumbled for the lever to pop the hood. He wasn’t a mechanic by any stretch of the imagination but he was praying it would be something obvious, something he could bodge together enough to make it to the next town and a qualified mechanic. He rubbed his hands together, his breath steaming in the cold night air and flicked the flashlight beam over the engine. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Walter frowned deeply. He was completely out of his depth.

“Great.” He growled, slamming the hood back down.

He glanced up the road, stuffing his hands into his pockets to ward off the chilly night air. Nothing moved on the horizon, even the wild life seemed silent. The quietness was freaky as hell. He had driven into the back of beyond and there wasn’t a chance in hell that someone was going to come down this way.

There was nothing else to do but start walking. Hopefully as he got nearer to a town his cell reception would pick up and he could call for help.

Walter had barely taken three steps when something caught his eye. Something was moving on the skyline. At first he thought it was a trick of his eyes but as it moved closer he realised it was a… a black cloud?

What the hell?

Walter had seen some weird shit in his time but he was pretty sure he’d never seen a cloud move the way this one was.

His heart gave a nervous flicker beneath his ribcage as it came closer. Walter wasn’t sure why but he was frightened. Subconsciously, he staggered backwards, wanting to put as much distance between him and the cloud as possible.

Something hit hard against the backs of his legs, eliciting a gasp of surprise from the young man, his heart thumping fiercely. Spinning his head over his shoulder he realised it was the bumper of the car, but it didn’t curtail his fear. He couldn’t explain why he did it – and he had no doubt he would feel stupid for it later - but he turned and ran.

He didn’t get far.

A shooting pain lanced through his spine. Caught off guard, he tripped over his feet and fell clumsily onto the asphalt. His knees burnt as they made contact with the hard surface, but he didn’t have time to think about that. The cloud was racing towards him – actually, it was fucking hurtling towards him!

This is friggin’ insane, absolutely stark-raving–

And then his mind went blank.

Bael planted a hand in the ground and rose onto shaky legs, testing the unfamiliar limbs. They felt weird; too short maybe… This guy was certainly smaller than his last host.

He shook them out, dancing on the spot for a moment as he tried to get used to them. Bael often thought possession was like wearing a new pair of jeans. At first they seem tight and foreign but after a time they came to fit like a second skin. In this case Mr Walter Kirsch was literally going to become a second skin. Nothing like a new meat suit to make a guy feel like a changed man.

Things hadn’t quite gone to plan this evening and Bael felt the tension settling around his ‘new’ shoulders. Maybe when he found a nice place to settle he would cause a little chaos, make sinners of a couple of humans, play with some entrails… Whatever took the edge off his sour mood. Of course, that would have to be somewhere far away from the Winchester’s.

His lip curled at the thought of the two hunters. They had proven difficult to say the least. Bael had assumed his plan was fool proof and that Sam would have acquiesced to his demands. He hadnt. In fact the kid had remained irritatingly resolved not to comply with his wishes.

Bael had to give the little shit credit where it was due though. He had known stronger men crumble under Eleksha’s gifts. In fact he wasn’t entirely sure how the kid had come out of Amorpheus unscathed and managed to open up to his damn abilities in the process. Azazel had bitten off more than he could chew with that one.

The demon stopped suddenly and went as still a rabbit in headlights. A sliver of ghostly fingers ran up his spine, sending a chill through his borrowed body.

Bael knew instantly he was no longer alone. A bestial grimace graced his lips as he turned slowly on his heel.

A figure stepped out of the shroud of darkness and moved closer to him. He was taller than Bael’s new host, standing well over six-foot and he had deep ebony hair that was cut short. He moved forward with what most people would have seen as confidence, but Bael saw it for what it was; he was an arrogant little bastard. Always had been, always would. Something’s even time couldn’t change.

“Well, well, well, Vassago.” Bael said under his breath, shifting on his feet cautiously. “Long time, no see. I thought you were a resident downstairs. ”

“You think you’re the only one who had the balls to climb out of that hole?”

Bael raised a brow, watching the kid carefully. His stance was relaxed but that didn’t mean the son of a bitch wasn’t dangerous as hell.

“You climbed out of the gateway?” He demanded sceptically. Despite the fact Vassago was stood in front of him it was difficult to believe the kid had done so. It was like giving an earthworm tools and asking it to build the Pyramids.

Vassago shifted his eyes to Bael.

“Is it really that shocking to think I could?”

“No.” Bael replied carefully. “Just unlikely - considering. So what? You climbed out of Hell a month ago and decided to call a reunion now? Why?”

Vassago roved a critical eye over the abandoned Ford, ignoring his question.

“This is what you’re driving?” He asked, glancing up.

Bael kept his gaze focused on the demon.

“I don’t have time for your crap, kid.”

Vassago crossed his arms over his chest, and pulled away from the car.

“I heard through the grapevine you’ve been busy.”

That caught Bael’s attention. He snarled.

“Been keeping tabs on me?”

The younger demon rolled his eyes.

“Please! I’ve got better things to do with my time than follow you around.” He traced a finger down the side panel of the car. “I was in the area. You really got your ass handed to you on a plate back there – and by a Watcher… It’s kind of lame, really. I thought you were above that. But then, I guess history does have a way of repeating itself.”

If the kid was looking to get a rise out of him then he was pushing the right buttons. Bael opened his mind, intending to blast the little shit into the next State but Vassago raised his hands defensively.

“Whoa, hold on a second. Before you do something stupid at least hear me out.”

Bael held back for a second. He was curious as to what the younger demon wanted and smearing him across the countryside wasn’t going to get answers. However, he was still irritated about his snipe and Bael couldn’t hold his tongue.

“Did you just come to gloat or to piss me off, Vassago?”

“On the contrary.” Vassago smiled. It was so sugar-coated that Bael’s new teeth ached. “I want to help you.”

Bael’s face dropped into a frown. That he hadn’t expected. “Why?”

“Why not?”

It was a loaded question and Bael didn’t want to answer it. “I guess Hell really does change a demon.” He muttered.

Vassago’s expression darkened.

“You have no idea how much.”

Bael eyed the kid carefully. He was well aware of what Vassago could do. All too aware. He had seen the little shit in action in the past and it wasn’t one of his favourite memories. Vassago might have been one of the younger demons in the Hierarchy but he had a flare for carnage. He made Eleksha look like a kitten in comparison.

“Get to the damn point, Vas.”

The younger demon grinned.

“The Winchester boy…? He’ll never do what you want him to do. I heard things about the kid while I was downstairs. You’re flogging a dead horse.”

Bael raised a brow.

“You worked all that out by yourself?” His tone was scathing. He clapped his hands together in mock applause. “Well done. If only you had been here… oh, two days ago. I could have saved myself a whole lot of friggin’ trouble.”

Vassago gave him a tight lipped smile. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I don’t need the help of a piss-poor half-rate demon.”

Vassago gave him a hurt look but it was clearly feigned.

“Ouch. Never heard of tact, Bael?” The kid snorted. “Either way, we have similar agendas and while those agendas are the same it seems stupid not to work together.”

Bael narrowed his brow suspiciously.

“And what agenda would that be?”

“The Grigori… and the gateways.” Vassago replied simply.

Bael rolled his eyes and moved towards the car. He was already bored of this conversation and he really didn’t need Vassago’s help.

“I work better on my own, kid. Go find some rich asshole to possess before some crazy hunter sends your scrawny butt packing back to Abbadon.”

Vassago snarled, slamming the palm of his hand against the driver’s side door as Bael tried to open it. The sound of metal crunching punctuated the silent night like a gun shot.

“Don’t treat me like a child, Bael!”

Bael scowled at the kid, glaring at him.

“You are a child, Vassago. Quit trying to play in the big league. You’ll get hurt.”

The older demon had expected Vassago to lose his temper again but the younger demon smiled at him instead.

“You can dangle Dean Winchester like a carrot in front of little Sammy for the rest of time, but he’ll never open those gateways and he wont lead our people into the supposed glorious ‘Golden Age’.” Vassago tone dripped with scorn. “Azazel was stark-raving mad to think he could ever get a Watcher to stand with us – and you’re even crazier for trying to finish what that mad son of a bitch started.”

Bael was moving before he even thought about. Fingers curled into Vassago’s jacket and slammed the younger demon into the side of the car. He grunted as he impacted but he was grinning.

“You want to take a trip down memory lane, kid? I’m sure Mammon would welcome you back downstairs with open arms.”

Bael didn’t miss the brief flicker of panic in Vassago’s face, but it didn’t stay for longer than a blink of his eyes. His smile had been replaced by a sour, thin-lip scowl.

“End of days is coming, Bael. Things are moving. The first stage has come to pass – as it was written it would. It’s only a matter of time before we squash this pathetic race into the dust. You don’t need Sam Winchester to do that. Not any more.”

“What the hell…” Bael released him with a vicious shove and watched as the kid pulled his clothes back into place. “Go screw around with someone else, Vas, before I really make good on that threat.”

“You don’t need him.” Vassago repeated stubbornly. He was practically beaming.

Smug little shit. What the hell was he so friggin’ happy about?

“What are you talking about? Only a Watcher can open or close the gateways to the Fallen.”

“That’s not entirely true, now is it?” When Bael gave him a quizzical stare Vassago’s smile widened. “Oh c’mon Bael, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten everything you ever learnt.”

Bael gave him a cold glare. “You’re walking in a pipe-dream world, Vas. They died out in the first Grigorian war. Or has Hell rotted your mind that much that you forgot that?”

“I didn’t forget.” Vassago said, draping his forearms over the roof of the car. He flashed a confident smile that almost had Bael wiping the floor with the kid. He resisted however. Bael had to admit the demon had snared his attention. “I’m well aware of my heritage, Bael.”

He opened and closed his mouth. This was ludicrous.

“There hasn’t been a Nephilim in… what? Two millennia?”

“Two and a half.” Vassago shrugged. “But who’s counting?”

“Blood and fire!” Bael muttered. “You really have lost your damn mind, haven’t you? Well, let me remind you. The Nephilim are dead. Go find someone else to piss off kid, before I remove your head from your shoulders and send it downstairs with whatever is left of the rest of you.”

“That’s gratitude for you!” Vassago growled but he was still smirking. “But they’re not dead. I’ve heard whisperings that the Nephilim walk amongst us again.”

Bael snapped his eyes to him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Raphael made sure they could never return.”

“He did. But the world is a wonderful place, Bael, and miracles…? They happen every day.”

“You’re telling me there is a Nephilim? On earth?”

Vassago pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his black eyes hungry.

“Not one - twins.” He purred the word.

“Twins?” he demanded sceptically.

“I don’t know how – frankly, I don’t care how – but they’re here. Saw the little cherubs with my own eyes.” he practically shivered with excitement.

Bael narrowed his eyes, studying the younger demon intently. Vassago wasn’t lying. He really believed there were two Nephilim alive. He had either been cleverly duped… or…? Or it was true.

He felt his face shift into a grin.

“Twins, huh? Well… this changes things quite a bit.”

Vassago matched his grin.

“It changes things a helluva lot.” Vassago folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “So, what d’ya say partner? I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Have we got an arrangement?”

Bael’s lips tugged at the corner before unfolding into a smirk. Vassago was a wolf in sheep’s clothing but his help was invaluable. As loathe as Bael was to admit it, the kid was a blessing in disguise.

“Yeah, kid.” He held out his hand and Vassago shook it. “We’ve got a deal.”

Things were looking up. First, he would deal with the Winchesters and then… well with two Nephilim at his side…? The world was his playground.

He grinned. Things were definitely looking up.

SNSNSNSN

Ok, so here concludes the Watcher. I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has left wonderful comments about my work and also those of you who have added me to your alerts and whatnot. I’m pretty sad this is over buuuuut as I’m planning to do a sequel… well more a continuation of this story, I’m not that sad! Anywho, I really hope you enjoyed this story.

Huge thanks to Anicka, Lynz, and Beki for beta’ing parts of this. Also a huge thanks to my housemate, Tom, who listened to me rambling incessantly about plot lines and even helped me out of a few sticky spots.