[Detroit!AU: the first to come was a fair maid]

[stilljustandrew]

Jonathan's vision was pretty well unmistakable. Gabriel's in danger, and doesn't know it -- or at least doesn't know the specifics.

That would be enough on its own, even if Andrew didn't more or less owe him his life.



Gabriel's nowhere to be seen at Milliways, and no one seems to have run into him in the past couple of days. Well, and that's normal enough; there's no reason he'd be here all the time, and plenty of reason to make himself scarce, all things considered. Maybe he's just back home.

Please just let this not be too late.

Andrew writes out a note at the bar giving Jonathan's vision in as much detail as he can, folds it carefully in quarters, and writes "The Trickster (G.)" on the outside.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

He laughs, low and dark, but stops where he is.

Instead, Lucifer holds out a hand to Andrew, clearly expecting him to take it.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew folds his arms around himself, hands jammed into his armpits as though against bitterest cold -- or as though trying to trap them, to make sure neither hand flies to Lucifer of its own accord.

Get it over with. Whatever you're going to do.

Just do it.

[gavemea_45]

"Come here, Andrew Wells."

He's still smiling, but there's a weight of utter implacability in his tone.

[stilljustandrew]

"No."

Maybe it's just the expression on his face, but -- even though it's the same body, it doesn't look to him at all like Sam Winchester anymore.

[gavemea_45]

He raises his eyebrows again, his smile unwavering.

"Do you really want to challenge me on something this minor?"

[stilljustandrew]

He doesn't answer, just shoves his hands further under his arms and stands his ground.

[gavemea_45]

He lowers his hand.

"So be it."

Without warning, a whirlwind howls out of nothingness and bears down on Andrew, seeking to slam him to his knees.

[stilljustandrew]

He throws up his hands involuntarily as though to ward it off.

There's no power in him to do anything of the kind.

[gavemea_45]

The wind dies to stillness as soon as Andrew's been forced down. It just means that Lucifer's words drop into the sudden quiet with absolute clarity.

"Let me tell you how this is going to work, Andrew. You're going to do what I command. Sure, you may resist at first, but in the end, you will obey."

He smiles.

"You'll want to."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew stays where he is, on his knees, half-bowed forward, trying to catch his breath.

This time it's not in any ruse, but to focus himself, that he's muttering inaudibly.

[gavemea_45]

He takes three quick steps forward and fastens his right hand in Andrew's hair, gripping firmly.

With casual strength, he raises his hand, and Andrew's head along with it, forcing the young man's face upward.

[stilljustandrew]

He shuts his eyes and his teeth hard against the pain of the grip, but doesn't resist the upward pull. Not, he's entirely aware, that it would do him any good.

His lips are still moving, close to soundlessly.

[gavemea_45]

His gaze sharpens, focusing on Andrew's lips, and Lucifer smiles.

"What in me is dark
Illumin," he murmurs, joining in with the silent recitation.

"what is low raise and support..."

He laughs, then reaches down, putting his other hand under Andrew's arm, and begins to lift him to his feet.

[stilljustandrew]

His recitation falters when he hears Lucifer's voice.

Only for a moment, before he squeezes his eyes shut tighter and continues, slightly louder.

"That to the height of this great argument
I may assert Eternal Providence..."

[gavemea_45]

"And justifie the wayes of God to men," he concludes.

Lucifer's laughter this time is slightly louder, echoing around the room, and both amused and strangely joyous.

"Is that really what you would desire to do, Andrew Wells?"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew opens his eyes.

And smiles, shaky and fearful and defiant.

"The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n."

[gavemea_45]

This time he throws back his head and gives himself over to delighted laughter, full-throated and strong.

"I understand what Sam sees in you."

[stilljustandrew]

"So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain," Andrew manages raggedly, "Vaunting aloud, but -- but racked with deep despair."

[gavemea_45]

"Milton always did have a tendency to view things through the lens of his own desire," he muses. "However--"

"--and reassembling our afflicted powers,
consult how we may henceforth most offend our enemy..."

A beat, and his smile brightens, brightens, as he allows power to whisper forth, limning his figure with a soft, glorious light that flows in a wave down his hand to Andrew's head... and begins to spread over him, as well.

"That much he got right," Lucifer tells him. "I have 'consulted' indeed."

[stilljustandrew]

The line that goes through Andrew's head, swift and terrified, is The light is taking me apart.

He draws in breath that feels charged with that glow, and struggles to raise his voice.

"If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd
From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst out-shine
Myriads though bright --"

[gavemea_45]

"Not all that changed," he murmurs, still smiling. "But the transcendent brightness part, that I'll grant--"

The light around him brightens, and a low, near-electric hum begins to crackle through the air around them as the purely-mortal is subsumed beneath the angelic.

Something moves at his back, flutters even, preparatory to an unfolding.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew shuts his eyes again.

"-- what though the field be lost?
All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,
And courage never to submit or yield --"

[gavemea_45]

"And what is else not to be overcome?" he finishes, as great wings burst forth.

One beat, another, and feathered pinions arch and curve forward in curtains of power, enfolding Andrew amid impossibly shining brilliance.

"Since through experience of this great event," Lucifer murmurs, his voice a soft susurrus in Andrew's ear, the sound and his touch the only stable things left in the world around him at this moment, "we may with more successful hope resolve ..."

A single breath's pause.

"Andrew Wells. Accept that this is what you are meant to do. It always has been. You have been marked for impossible greatness."

He smiles, radiant and glorious.

"Fear not."

[stilljustandrew]

No. Fear. Be very afeard.



His fear is real, and solid, and something to hold on to.

Stop pretending you don't want me to be afraid of you.

[gavemea_45]

The touch of his hand on Andrew's arm vanishes, only to be replaced by a light, pointed tap on both eyelids.

"Look at me, Andrew."

A hint of implacable sternness underlies his tone in clear warning.