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spn-fanfic-reblog-writes · 2 years

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Blood in Heaven and Hell - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: What do you do when your siblings want to destroy Heaven? Try to stop them and hopefully not have to kill them in the process.

Canon: Supernatural (AU), Season 10

Pairing: None (in later chapters there will be)

Characters: Bobby, OFC!Alex Morgenstern, MOC!Dean, Sam. Mentions of John and OMC!Adam Morgenstern

Warnings: Cursing.

Word Count: 2,380

Author’s Notes: AU Spn. Bobby Lived. Charlie lived.

Author’s Notes 2: Finally wrote! It’s out. I hope you enjoy it. I welcome comments and feedback.

REMINDER: Please do not post on any other website without permission from ME. Please feel free to reblog on tumblr.

Beta’d: @fluffiest-dreams and @myloversgone

With it near nightfall the sun started to set in the cloudy sky, Bobby, still with his cap on, turned on the headlights and radio. Making it scan for a local channel and stopping on the first oldies station. A chuckle came from the woman in the passenger seat as she glanced at him and then back at the road ahead. She leaned forward to stretch out her back from sitting so long and scratched the back of her short auburn hair, “Where are we goin’?”

“I told you. I need some books for my next case,” Bobby said matter-of-factly.

“You haven’t said where though. Where are you going to get these books from? I mean are we meeting an antiques dealer? Going to a bookstore? Picking them up from an Amazon locker? What?”

“You gotta wait until we get there. We might be staying a while, actually,” he stated, deliberately ignoring her question.

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin glaring line. “What? But you said—“ She took a deep breath. “Oh my God! You and my Father. Keeping secrets like it’s gonna kill me,”she said, getting louder with each word, yelling the last two. She unbuckled her seatbelt and angrily climbed into the backseat; although, careful not to hit him, he was driving.

She pursed her lips as she got settled in the back. “I’m hungry,” she leaned back, crossing her arms and placing her chin on her chest. “I’m tired of these secrets, Bobby. I don’t give a damn what my Father told or asked you to do. I don’t have to stay here, let alone be treated like I’m some stupid child or newbie hunter. I’ve been doing this shit since I was 14.”

She laid across the backseat with her boots flat on the seat, arms still crossed over her small chest, and chin still on her chest. She stared out the window at the darkening passing trees and orange-pink sky trying not to just leave especially with all her belongings in the trunk.

Bobby adjusted the rear view mirror slightly but remained silent while he periodically looked at her.

“I can just leave, Bobby,” she paused, then added, “ can just poof; I’m gone,” she said almost sing-song-like.

Tires suddenly squealed as the car came to a sudden halt causing her to roll her unbuckled self into the floorboard yelling, “Ahh.” She quickly got up and sat back on the seat, confusion written across her face as she stared at the back of his head.

She opened her mouth but Bobby leaned back glaring daggers at her face, so she shut it. “Listen here, girl. I promised your Daddy I would keep you safe. Heaven or hell. If I have to track you down, I will but I’m chaining your butt to a chair with them sigils, so it don’t happen again. Got it?”

Her eyes quickly looked down into her lap and she fiddled with her fingers. She knew she was in trouble so she quietly replied, “Yes, sir.” She sighed quietly as Bobby got the car going again and she buckled her seatbelt.

“We’re just about there,” he said a bit exasperated and adjusted his cap. “Dean’s making spaghetti.”

She looked up at him in the rear view mirror, “Dean? As in Dean Winchester?” She leaned back haughtily and crossed her arms. “No wonder you didn’t want me to know. My Father would be pissed if he knew we were working with them.”

“Yeah, well, your Daddy is something else and doesn’t know shit sometimes,” Bobby replied.

“Preaching to the choir, Bobby. Why do you think I stopped doing cases with him? Only doing easy shit. A coward.” She opened her mouth then closed it, and then opened it again, “Why does he hate them?”

Bobby sighed while rubbing his forehead under his cap. “From what John told me years ago, he called Adam out on some shit and hated him ever since. Never told me what though,” he explained.

A few minutes passed and she finally asked, knowing she should ask before getting there, “Hey Bobby, are those Edlund Carver books true?”

Bobby rolled his eyes looking in the rear view mirror, “Do not bring those up. They hate them.”

“He’s a prophet, right? That’s why they’re about the brothers, yeah?”

“Something like that. I don’t know. Just...don’t,” he said exasperated.

“I won’t mention it. Promise,” she agreed right hand up.

She came down the stairs behind Bobby holding her duffle in one hand, a medium-sized chest in the other, and a satchel across her shoulder. “Nice digs,” she said aloud as she walked down.

A foyer-type space containing a long table with a USA map in it greeted her and opened towards a kitchen and a small library-like area. The place was made of brick and cement and decorative paneling, which she knew was common for an underground bunker except for the paneling. She’d never been in one, let alone one that was this size. She had no idea they could be made the size of a house but underground. Maybe I should get one of these, she thought to herself with a half-smirk across her pale pink lips.

“Thanks,” said Sam.

“Hey,” Bobby said with a wide smile on his bearded face, dropping his bag and hugging Sam, patting his back.

“Dinner’s ready,” yelled Dean from the kitchen.

“Come on, I’ll show you your rooms and then we can eat,“ Sam said and then offered to help, “Need help with those?”

She shook her head, “Nah, ain’t too bad. I’m stronger than I look.” Sam nodded with a small smile and motioned for them to follow him through the kitchen and down the hall.

Bobby and her put their stuff down in their designated rooms —each staying in a concrete walled, spartan-like bedroom with a full size bed, small wooden nightstand with a lamp, and chest of drawers matching the nightstand— they chose not to unpack yet and headed back to chow. As they sat down to eat, Bobby made the introductions, “This is Alex Morgenstern.”

Alex waved with her other hand as she pulled the empty fork from her mouth.

“Alex, Sam and Dean Winchester,” He said, pointing to each as he spoke and then dug in.

“This is really good, Dean,” Alex said once her mouth was empty.

“Thanks.”

Alex helped clean up the dishes and washed.

“Alex, you don’t have to do that,” said Sam.

“I’m gonna be staying here for a bit. Might as well help where I can,” She replied. “I don’t mind. Besides, Bobby doesn’t want my help with his case even though I’m,” she leaned towards the entrance to yell her next words, “PRETTY SURE I KNOW WHO HE IS AFTER EVEN THOUGH HE REFUSES TO ASK ME FOR HELP!”

Her brow furrowed as she went back to washing the dishes. “Stubborn old man,” she mumbled.

Sam chuckled at her nodding, “Sounds like Bobby.”

“Why don’t you go help him find whatever he is looking for? I’m pretty sure it is a demon that hasn’t shown up for a few centuries until recently due to all this new age-y witchcraft movement.”

Sam tilted his head, “Know a name?” he asked, standing there listening to her.

“Gamellus,” she said. “Asshole demon who acts similar to djinns except they’re draining your life force, not blood, and slowly warp your desire to kill you if they don’t do it first. Records show it would hit villages. Possessing the first person who they grant their desire to before they drain the first person's life force fully since it needs a body— look good for the masses, I guess—but you know demons, don’t know a body is dead until they leave. I don’t know how or why they do that. It seems stupid but eh.” She shrugged.

She started rinsing the dishes, “Bobby just doesn’t know how to kill it. I’m sure he was hoping to get you guys to help him figure it out.” She paused,” I told him Gamellus is a lot tougher than they look and it only goes after worshippers at first. Depending on the history you read, it’s either considered a demon or a god. It’s actually a demon that was worshipped as a god but as it killed its followers, less and less worshipped them. There has been no new evidence for several hundred years and only speculation in the recent two hundred.”

“Seems you did your research,” Sam complimented with a smile.

Alex looked up at him and felt heat rising to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and turned away putting the dishes on the drying rack, “Other than some protection using Gamellus stones, I have not found a way to defeat it. I mean other than de-possessing it from their first host which doesn’t necessarily make it go back to Hell with it being a higher-level or more powerful demon than what I’ve typically seen with possessions. It’d probably just leave before it was fully de-possessed, so finding out how to kill it would be better.”

She paused and looked at Sam again, “I’m worried though this isn’t even a demon and it’s really a djinn. Poisoning traumatic mindfuck. While potentially more likely to survive if you have the antidote, reviving a lifetime of trauma which no one wants to unpack.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak but Bobby interrupted and called, “Alex.”

She dried her hands and nodded at Sam to follow. Walking into the map room, she looked around again, silently ooo-ing and ahh-ing at everything in the room. She finally walked to Bobby, “Yeah?”

“Can you translate this?” He asked.

She looked down at the book and touched the page, “It’s a form of ancient demonic.” She picked up the book looking at the image closely, “Yeah, hang on.”

“Demons have a language?” Dean asked between sips of his beer.

Alex looked up, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t they? Angels speak Enochian. Why can’t demons have a language too? I mean most demons were former humans. They gotta communicate in a common way somehow.”

“Isn’t Enochian innately known by Angels?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Demons are the same,” she explained as she continued looking at the book. She started pacing with the book, her lips moving silently. A sudden laugh escaped her, she stopped abruptly her cheeks turning pink with all eyes on her, ” Sorry.”

“What’s funny?” Bobby asked.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a demon…” her eyes looking up as she tried to figure out how to explain what she read. She looked at them and stated, “a demonic joke.”

Dean and Sam raised their eyebrows at her. She raised her own eyebrows in response and rested a hand on her hip while defensively stating, “I like dark humor.”

“You gonna tell me what it says?” Bobby inquired turning towards her.

“Listen, this isn’t easy. It’s like trying to translate Egyptian hieroglyphs into English. There is a lot that goes into it because you gotta figure out when it was written to figure out the meaning and sound it produces, and then I have to translate it into actual, current demonic just so I can translate it into English. Ok?”

“Ok.” Bobby put his hands up.

“Why do you need to translate it into another form of demon?” Sam asked, brow furrowed almost worriedly.

“It’s how I learned Abyssal, you know, this demonic ancient language I’m trying to translate here,” she explained while absentmindedly staring at the book.

Dean looked at Bobby questioningly. Bobby silently shrugged in reply, “She knows demons.” Then added, “and Angels.”

“This is the shit you and I already know, Bobby, except one detail. Gamellus was cursed by Asmodeus, apparently, after failing to…” she paused, “something about not following his orders but there aren’t specifics.”

“Well, that’s something,” Bobby smiled.

“It doesn’t say what Gamellus was cursed with, just that it was cursed and why.” Alex put the book down on the table. “I wonder what other historical books y’all have related to demons. Sam, could you help me find those?”

“Of course, card catalogue,” he spoke and motioned her to follow.

“Wow, a card catalogue. Haven’t seen one of these since I was a kid,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“How do I cross reference again?” Alex asked.

Later that night, Alex settled into her room. She unpacked her clothes and put them in the chest of drawers: one for pants, tops, and undergarments. The next drawer she placed the numerous knives she brought still in her thigh holsters, two 9-mil glocks also in gun holsters, an ammo box of bullets, a large cigar box of miscellaneous pendant-style metal symbols, pieces of varying shapes of metal no bigger than the size of a quarter, folded pieces of colored paper, and a breast knife glued to the inside of the lid. She paused a moment, closed the lid of the cigar box and grabbed three slim, palm-sized, all metal throwing knives. She placed one under her pillow, one in her back pocket and one in her front pocket of her jeans.

She moved the medium chest between the wall and bed at the head. She took her key out and unlocked it,

Hung the lock on the hook preventing the chest from being locked again. She began to hum No Quarter by Led Zeppelin as she opened it up looking around. There were more clothes, some linens, and labeled bags of various dried flowers, herbs and spices on top of books. She grabbed the top book from under the bags and closed the lid, and then laid down on the bed. Inside the spine was a space that held a pen she removed and began writing in the book.

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Tag list: @riley-phoenix

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