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Game of Survival

Chapter Text


Dean anxiously looked at his watch, ten minutes to seven, turning his attention out the window to the slowly setting sun. He took a deep breath, a hand on one of the bars to make sure they were secure. Turning towards the room, it wasn’t that big, but it was enough to fit a handful of people comfortably. A cot in one corner, three computer screens on the wall with a desk settled underneath them and a big cabinet off to the side filled with necessities such as food, water, and guns.

“Dean?” a familiar voice calling out from the hallway, a moment later Sam’s head popped around the corner. “Hey, I got more snacks and beer.” Hauling an armful of bags to emphasize his point.

“Great, did you get the pie?” Dean asked as he tried to get a peek inside the bags for that sweet and delicious dessert.

“I got you a cake, that’s close enough, right?”

“How dare you compare Cake and Pie. It’s like you don’t even know me!” Dean would throw a temper tantrum if he wasn’t a freaking adult, Sam always forgets the pie. How does Sam expect Dean to last the night with sandwiches, chips, and beer alone? He needs that sweetness to balance out all that salt. And watch his cholesterol go...up.

“Whatever, Dean,” and to rub salt in the wound, he pulled out the offensive desert and placed it on the table.

“Ya Idjits ready for the prom?” Bobby called out, rounding the corner with a beer in hand. Checking his watch again, he sighed when it read four minutes to seven.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Dean answered watching Bobby plop down at the computer screens. He clicked a couple of things on the screen before pulling up a government page.

“May God have mercy on our souls,” Bobby muttered under his breath right as the alarms started to blare.


“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 a.m. when The Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."

The screens on the computers blacked out for a moment, multiple live camera feeds pulling up a second later, covering all areas surrounding the bunker.

“Dean gets the first watch, Sam you rest. And you know where I’ll be.” The boys nodded their agreements, having already been through this so many times. This had been going on well before they were alive and it’s become regrettably second nature.

“Yeah, Sam gets first dibs on sleeping because he needs his beauty rest,” Dean commented from the gun cabinet, loading up his 9mm, glancing over at his little brother with a smirk.


“That’s for forgetting the pie, Bitch”

At that, Sam slumped onto the cot with an exhausted sigh, not even bothering to cover himself with the paper-thin blanket they had laying across it. Smirk turning into a smile, Dean grabbed a rifle and slinging it over his shoulder before shutting the cabinet doors and tucking his 9mm into the waistband of his jeans.

“Let’s do an hour and a half rotations, give sleeping beauty enough rest before his turn,” Bobby confirmed, not taking his eyes off the monitors.

“Okie Dokie” Dean called out as he made his way down the hallway to the main door.

8:15 pm 

He lost track of how many times he wandered around the junkyard, making sure the area was secured. So far no one has set foot in the area, if that had happened, Bobby would have called over the walkie to alert him of anything.

Dean stopped for a moment, turning in place to check over his shoulder, his hand coming up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He wasn’t nervous. Far from it. It was just really hot out here given it being March.

“Westside, one of the traps was triggered” Bobby’s voice breaking the silence around him. Turning in place Dean started hustling in that direction.

Once he arrived, he could see a body hanging in the air by their ankle, already knocked out from the tranquilizer. They didn’t believe in these rules of killing one another set by these New Founding Fathers. It was just wrong. Over the years Dean could count on one hand how many people he had to kill.

Desperation and being in the wrong place at the wrong time were the only reasons he ever had to do it. He hated it. His stomach churned at the memory of Sammy being in that kind of danger again. He shook his head to rid the thoughts as he went to work to get the body down.

He had just managed to get the person loose, a freaking teenager of all things, and moving the body into hiding when an ear-splitting scream cut through the air. On instinct alone, Dean dropped the body to swing his rifle around aiming towards the source. The hand that’s not on the trigger reaching up to press the call button on the walkie.

“Hey Bobby, did you get that?” He muttered into it with his eyes laser-focused on the area before him.

“I got nothing. It’s 8:25, get your ass inside before it does become something.” Nodding his head even though no one was there to see it, he dragged the unconscious body under a tarp, pulling the flap over the hiding spot before making his way back to the entrance of the bunker.

He was almost to the door when another scream pierced the night air, this time it sounded much closer.

It wasn’t until he had unlocked the door when he turned around. Squinting into the night, off in the distance a vague shape could be seen.

“Dean get your ass in here. There’s a group heading this way.” Without a second thought, he tugged open the heavily vaulted door, slipping in quickly and slamming it shut behind him. Spinning the handle to set all the locks in place is when Dean finally let out a breath.

“Help!” the voice through the door called out, causing Dean to jump slightly, followed by pounding on the door. Feeling his blood turn cold, he was frozen in place. They’ve never had this happen before. Usually, the person would get caught in their traps, preventing any entry onto the grounds.

I didn’t reset the trap! Dean thought as the pounding on the door continued.

“Please! They’re going to kill me!” the voice called out hysterically. Dean could feel his heartbeat start to pick up, a sick feeling dropping into the pit of his stomach.

“Dean, don’t you dare let him in. There's a mob of at least 10 people closing in on him”

“Help me! Please!”

“If you let him in so help me-“ he turned the volume down, blocking out everything Bobby was going to say.

“Please, they’re going to kill me!”

“Fuck…” Dean uttered, holding up his gun as he spun the wheel to unlock the door. “I’m opening the door.” He called before pushing the door open.

Standing there was a man, all disheveled looking and out of breath.

“Get in!” Dean urged, pulling the guy by the coat, his gaze turning outward to the approaching shadowy figures. He yanked the guy over the rest of the threshold before slamming the door, spinning the locks into place.

9:15 pm

“I told you specifically not to let him in!” Bobby all but shouted, the three of them were huddled in the main room while their unexpected guest was placed in one of the “guest” rooms.

“I know Bobby, I’m sorry, I didn’t listen-“

“You’re damn right you didn’t listen! You were reckless and selfish and arrogant! Now we got a stranger that we need to throw out of here as soon as possible.”

“But Bobby- “

“Don’t ‘but’ me boy. I promised John I wouldn’t let nothing happen to you boys and that means keeping strangers from entering the bunker during the Goddamn Purge!” At that Dean had to tear his eyes away from Bobby’s, feeling like a complete fuck up because he knew the rules.

Sam was sitting at the monitors, his gaze peering from the screens before trailing over towards Bobby and him. His facial expression was unrecognizable.

On the screens, the camera was focused on their new occupant who was sitting on the bed. He was sitting up with his legs over the side, hands holding onto the edges with his head hanging down low.

Yeah, he just…he fucked up. He let a stranger into the bunker in the middle of the worst day of the year. His gaze drifted over to Sam again whose attention was now focused on the camera feeds.

He felt the familiar pang of guilt when he remembered the last time he fucked up. His left shoulder gave a ghostly ache as images of his brother bloody and unconscious on the ground drifted through his mind. They still haunt him in his dreams to this day.

Having broken that vow to never let this happen again hanging in the air with this new predicament he let in.

“Quit your wallowing and tell him he has to go so we can give him the boot.” Bobby’s voice cut through his thoughts. Snapping out of it, like he was on autopilot, Dean stood up and walked out of the room.

The third room on the left, far from where they were meeting so as not to overhear but close enough to keep an eye on him. He stood in front of the door, counting down from ten, before lifting his hand to unlock the deadbolt and turning the handle.

The locks are on the outside just in case of situations like this. The door gave a loud groan when he opened the door, the strangers head popping up to see who it is. His shoulders remained tense, his face set in neutral as Dean shut the door and leaned against it while crossing his arms over his chest.

From when Dean had grabbed the guy till now, he didn’t get a good look at him. He had dragged the guy in, slammed the door shut and when he had turned around to say something, Bobby and Sam were running down the hall towards them. Bobby had snapped at Dean, outright ordering him to put this guy in a room before dragging his happy ass to the main room.

Looking at the guy now…and he’s being ridiculous for even thinking this, he looked familiar. Ruffled black hair, stunning blue eyes and that unnecessary tan trench coat he was wearing over a suit of all things.

“Look, I’m not sorry for pulling you from the danger but the bad news is we can’t keep you here. Once those people that were chasing clears out, you’re gone.” He watched as the man’s shoulders relax slightly, his gaze turning towards the concrete floor.

“I-I understand. I didn't mean to intrude on you during a night such as this.”

Crap, even his voice seemed vaguely familiar. Running a hand through his hair, Dean’s gaze went everywhere but towards the man before him, even lingering on the camera in the top corner for a moment before turning his eyes to the floor.


“Nope,” Dean waving his hands to interrupt the guy. “I don't want to know your name, your age or anything about you.”

The guy, damn it, looked so sad. But there was an understanding that flickered through his eyes.

"I will ask this, whose cheerios did you piss in to get that many people after you?"

The guy looked down, a hand rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck.

"I-I was kidnapped a couple of days before the Purge. Someone I knew betrayed me, they grabbed me in my sleep…" he trailed off, glancing up to meet Dean's eyes, "When I woke up, I was on the floor of a church. No one around."

It felt like a rock had settled in Dean's stomach at the story. Held captive before the purge even started? These must have been some sick sons of bitches. Must've been some kind of ritual they were planning to perform during this disgusting night.

Dean's read all kinds of stories that have happened. With easy access to the internet, you can see the deeds being done across the state. Amazed and sickened by how creative these people could get and how far they’ve come since the beginning.

"Anyways, after I woke up, I ran. When I managed to get the doors open, I recognized what day it was and I ran."

"And then someone who kidnapped you saw this, notified his buddies, and presto! Here you are,"

The guy gave him a sad look, nodding his head an agreement.

Rolling his eyes, this was ridiculous, he was about to respond when the static on the walkie talkie cut in.

“Anyways, if you were kidnapped while you were asleep, how the hell are you wearing a suit under that ugly ass trench coat?”

The guy looked down at his wardrobe.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice broke whatever the guy was going to say next, Dean unclipping the walkie from his belt.


“Bobby’s got something,”

That’s not good.

Dean gave the man one last look before opening the door and slipping out.


“Castiel freaking Novak!” Dean all but shouted at the two men. Bobby had a bored look on his face while Sam just looked just as amazed as Dean.

“A Senator," Dean began, waving his arms in exaggeration after Sam brought his image up on the screen to confirm it. The man looks exactly like his picture, except for the hair. Usually, it's combed over and neat, now it looks like he just rolled out of bed, no pun intended.

"The real question is why was he being chased," Sam interrupted. "Ranking 10 and over aren't supposed to be harmed during the Purge,"

"He said he was kidnapped a couple of days ago, woke up in a church, escaped. Now he's here."

The two stopped what they were doing or about to do to stare at Dean.

"A Ritual?" Bobby questioned, disbelief in his voice.

"Possibly," and Dean proceeded to tell them about the betrayal and everything else Castiel had told him.

"Well these dunderheads must really want him back," Bobby uttered, walking over to the computer to press a few buttons. The screen changed to the cameras outside, a group of seven people stood by the entrance. Waiting.

Which was odd, people would be banging on the door, demanding they open before the get the heavy artillery. But these guys were standing around, talking.

"This guy came with a lot of hate during the election. He wants to end the purge,"

Dean nodded in understanding, remembering what happened to that one female that tried to become president so she could end the Purge. 

That...that did not end well. They found her body mangled, hanging from a noose in front of the capitol building that morning.

The words "Purge" carved into her stomach.

It was all over the news and social media. People were even chanting “All hail the new founding fathers”

"Great. That means we have to keep him." Dean said, an air of finality to his words. Sam and Bobby looked at each other, nodding in agreement.

"Well since we can't patrol, Dean, get some sleep. Sam, you help me keep an eye on these freaks,"




He doesn't know what woke him, something like a trombone or some kind of horn, blaring loud enough to wake him from a peaceful slumber.

The first thing he noticed after the blur of sleep faded, was red. The room was doused in red lighting. The blaring noise was the alarm.

That same sick feeling from before settled in his stomach as his heart began to race.

Someone got in.

The thought running rampant, making him bolt from the bed.

The room the three of them had been occupying was empty, but just as he got to the doorway, he heard grunting followed by a thumping noise.

He had turned the corner in time to see Sam falling to the floor, a man before him with a crowbar in his hand.

Dean shouted for the guys' attention, pulling his gun from his waistband and aiming it towards the guy right as they looked up.

It must be the adrenaline or the lights, but the guy gave an almost predator like a smile, waving before turning and running.

Dean only managed to get one shot, missing guy by an inch before they ducked out.

Dean took off at a sprint to catch up, managing to catch a glimpse of Bobby and Sam sprawled out on the floor, reaching the doorway in time to see two people shove a tied up Castiel into the trunk of an awaiting car.

"Hey!" Shouting to gain their attention, aiming the gun to fire off a few rounds.

The people scrambled, one of Dean's bullets finally hitting a target. They cried out, limping towards the open car door.

Firing off another bullet, the same person fell. Just then the car peeled away. Dean firing shot after shot at the car.

The barrel clicking a couple of times indicating that it was empty.

Dean glared at the gun for not having any more bullets before placing the weapon back into the waistband.

Chapter Text

11:30 pm


"There you go champ," Dean grunted out as he helped his brother into the chair who was holding an icepack on the side of his head.

"Are you feeling drowsy? How many fingers am I holding up?" Dean asked while waving three digits in front of Sam.

"I'm fine, Dean,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dean,"

"I'm just saying you've taken a lot of blows to the head." Sam glared at his brother as Dean continued, "I mean, I know the Disney princess hair gives you some padding"

Sam's glare turned full-on bitch face, wincing at icepack when he adjusted it.

"How's Bobby?" The two turned to look towards the bed, said person was laying across with their eyes closed, the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating he was still alive.

"He'll be fine, he's tougher than he looks," Dean gave his brother a pat on the opposite arm that was holding ice up.

"They took Castiel."

"I know, and there's nothing we can do about," Dean called out, walking over to the bag of goodies on the table across the room.

"Dean! Are you kidding me," Sam exclaimed, sitting up straighter to give his brother an incredulous look. Dean glanced over his shoulder and shrugged.

"Dean, this guy is trying to stop the purge. You're just gonna let him get fed to the wolves?" Sam was now standing.

"The man wasn't gonna end the purge. If he had managed to survive this Purge, he'd have died during the next."

"He's not Senator Roan, who believed in the cause and survived until She was a nominee for President-"

"And she died. Just like everyone else, Sam," he found a bottle of beer in the bags, no caring if it wasn't cold, popping the top to take a swig. He turned around to see the look of distraught on Sam's face.

"Oh, don't start-"

"Dean, we have to at least try. If not, then we don't know if this Castiel guy is the one that could end once and for all," and damn it, the puppy dog eyes.

"I don-"

"Dean," and somehow those eyes just got sadder.

"Alright," taking a long swig of his beer, almost draining it, before slamming it on the table. "You got any idea on where they could have taken him?" Crossing his arms and leaning against the table.

12:10 pm


Dean peeked around the building's corner. The coast was clear on the streets, but he wasn't going to risk it. He turned around and headed for the alleyway.

Probably the safest bet, being out in the open could be a risk of getting caught.

Sam and Dean figured the kidnappers had brought Cas back to the Church where he originally woke up. To finish that ritual they've been waiting to do.

The two had agreed that Sam would stay to watch Bobby and the bunker. After helping to set up and checking the current traps, making sure everything was safe and secure.

Except for the small argument the two had right as Dean was leaving.

If Dean wasn’t back by six, Sam was to assume he had failed. Sam had gotten all teary-eyed, arguing that he’ll be back and that Dean was being ridiculous. Of course, Dean’s rebuttal that he may be Batman, but even he was Human and can’t fight all the bad guys at once.

Dean kept his eyes sweeping left and right, searching for anyone that could pop out or a possible trap.

"Hey Big Boy," a daunting voice called out, Dean raised a gun in the direction of the sound. The voice tutted at the display. "Someone came packing,"

"Well, you kind of have to, you know, on a night like this," to emphasize his point, Dean clicked the hammer back on the revolver.

"The purge doesn't have to be about killing, you know,"

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to pass. Killing innocent people just doesn't do it for me,"

The man walked out from the shadows, Dean grimacing at the sex dungeon attire, the guy brought his nine tail whip up, using the other hand to run through the leather tails.

"Well, You're gonna get it tonight, Big Boy," the man commented, swinging the whip around. "What's your safe word?"

"Nope, nope!"  Taking off faster than he’s ever done before, the back of his mind wishing he could have taken the impala.

He burst onto the illuminated streets like a bat out of hell, where he kept running until he found his way to another set of alleyways. Slumping against the nearest wall, he keeled over in exhaustion.

"Fuck…" he panted out, running a hand through his hair and sitting up straighter. That's when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Someone in an all-white dress was standing across the street, in the middle of the park, directly across from Dean. 

Must be a girl, with a tight short dress and rocking curves. She was wearing a white face mask, dark hair sticking in every crazy direction. But the kicker is her entire dress and mask had blood splatter all over it.

He felt a pang of fear when her head turned in his direction. Her whole body following shortly after spotting him. The shadows of the streetlights masking her eyes, but she was staring right him. He could feel that intense gave.

That's when she slowly lifted her arm until her hand point straight at him.

Dean started backing away. She stayed put. But the sound of chainsaws revving up had him turning and sprinting away. 

To many lefts and right had him bursting through the first door that was unlocked.

The entire room was plunged in pink lighting, loud music pulsing through the speakers, and people everywhere. Dean stared around the place, unsure of what he stumbled upon.

“Hello,” a sweet-sounding voice called over the music. Dean turned around and was met with a girl standing there in a very see-through outfit, knee-length dress. Her hair was done up in pigtails and a crazy amount of makeup on her face. If he wasn’t so out of breath, he’d have been turned on by her body alone. But the makeup, yeah, that's a no go for him.

He quickly tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans, having had it in a death grip the entire dead sprint.

She stared at him expectantly as he got his breathing under control. He hasn’t run this much since Sam demanded he participate in that charity. He couldn’t feel his legs after that.

“Are you looking for a room?” she inquired.

Raising a brow at the question, “N-no, what is this?”

She smirked at him and gestured to the entirety of the place. “Everything is legal during the purge,” her smirk turning into a smile, all teeth showing including the fake canine teeth she was sporting, “We focus on one of the most important aspects of human nature: Pleasure,”

Dean looked around, and sure enough, people were grinding on the dance floor, people making out on the couches, alcohol and yup, drugs.

“I have a favor to ask,”

1:30 am

Glancing at his watch for a brief moment, he turned his attention back to the building. The girl was a big help in finding where he was going. It wasn’t too far from where he was, which was a lifesaver.

After dodging groups of people out on the hunt, he made it to his destination without a problem.

The church before him stood tall, with one of those crosses that stood at the tippy top of the tower. Painted white with stained glass on all the windows and the large oak door separating the world outside.

Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, there was no one, before taking a tentative step forward from his hiding spot across the street.

Slowly making his way across the path to the double doors, gun already in hand, reaching the oak doors, without a hitch.

He looked around one more time, hearing the distant cries and alarms in the distance, before pulling on the handle. Locked.

“Son of a…” he trailed off, looking from the door handle to the stained glass in the door. Looking through, he couldn’t see anything. It was like these people that owned the church didn’t bother to clean their windows.

He turned back around to face the open street and walkway, contemplating what to do. That's when Sam’s words echoed in the back of his head about who this guy was. Internally rolling his eyes at the bitch face he imagined his brother giving him if Dean returned stating the doors were locked and nobody was home. He walked down the steps to head around the building.

Coming to the first window, he peered inside. Nothing but pews. Walking to the next one, the same thing. It wasn't until he reached the last window did he see something.

A body.

They were laying right before the altar.

The familiar-looking tan trenchcoat was the only indication of it being who Dean was looking for.

"Cas!" He shouted, banging on the window to wake him up. Nothing. Cursing under his breath, he followed along the side of the church until he reached the back.

Whoever had left Cas here was in a hurry. The back door was wide open. Or a trap. Every horror movie flashed through Dean's mind as he placed both hands on his gun while he took a step inside.

It was pitch black, the hairs on the back of his neck raising when the thought of Hatchet Man. Appearing out of nowhere saying his famous catchphrase:

Time to slice and dice,"

Shuddering at the thought, he crept in, past the room with all the robes and churchly items. He found another door, which upon opening it, lead into the room with the altar and pews.

"Cas," Dean breathed out, quickly rushing around the Altar to Cas' unconscious body. "Hey buddy, wake up," while checking his pulse, relieved to feel a heartbeat. A really low one at that.

"Cas, let's go, wake up!" Slapping his cheeks a couple of times. When he got no response, Dean let out an irritated sigh. There's no way he's gonna be able to carry this guy back to the bunker.

He reached around for his phone.

The next moment...he can't exactly describe it. 

Weightlessness, soaring, it wasn't until his back slammed into something solid, knocking all the air out of his lungs before crashing to the floor.

He blacked out, he thinks for a few seconds, possibly even minutes, groaning in pain, trying to catch his breath.

He turned his head.

Eyes squinting open.

Through the haze, he saw a figure slowly sitting up, eventually getting up to stand.

Dean watched, his vision clearing after he was able to control his breathing, to recognize that it was Cas standing there. Arms crossed, eyes closed, biting his lip as he hummed a nonsensical tune.

"Cas," Dean groaned out, his back protesting from the impact, as he slowly sat up.

"You know, this whole 'deep cover' thing... It just wasn't - it wasn't a terribly well thought out plan. Donning this - this Cas mask? This grim face of constipation? Just ugh!"

Dean stared at him, his voice sounded different. But this was Cas in the flesh.

The man uncrossed his arms to fix the trenchcoat, looking down and examining himself all the way up to his fingernails.

That's when Dean remembered earlier in the night.

A ritual.

He looked around where 'Cas' was standing, noticing markings on the floor and candles spread around.


'Cas' brought one hand up to silence him, then bringing the finger to his chin. Looking away in thought before a wide creepy smile appeared.

"I'll give you three hints, Dean,"

Dean managed to get into a seated position, his back against the double doors he'd been flung into.

How the hell did he know Dean’s name?!

"One, I am the second oldest of four brothers," 

The man before Dean slowly stalked towards him, a predator like smile on his face.

"Two, I created the first Demon, twisted her soul up quite nicely."

Stopping just before Dean, squatting down so he was face to face.

"Lastly, I was confined to a cage to live out the rest of my life!" At that, his iris' flashed red.

Dean stared, trying to wrap his head around what the man just said. If what he said...this isn't real. There's no such thing. Dean's not a religious man, but there's always a possibility with proof. But this is just downright impossible.



Just then the doors behind Dean opened, causing him to fall back. But he never fell the ground; instead, he felt arms hooking his and lifting him up. Looking at the people who grabbed him, he almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of the black eyes.

"About time," Lucifer...Cas...whoever he was, said as he stood up and walked back to the altar

The half dragged half walked Dean back down the aisle to the man standing there. The people dropped, causing him to fall on his hands and knees.

"Let's talk about the elephant in the room," Dean looked up. Cas or Lucifer wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was looking at the people who brought him up.

"What do you mean?" One of them asked.

The smile on the man's face dropped. Eyes narrowing.

"You brought me the wrong brother!" At that, he turned and knocked everything that was sitting on the altar off. He picked up a cup off the floor before throwing it in a random direction.

The people were silent.

"You "demons" had one job, explain to me how you brought me Michael's vessel instead?!"

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, the air tense.

“Don’t you think about it for too long. You know what they say, He who hesitates,” Snapping his fingers, “Disintegrates.”

Dean heard an audible gulp beside him.

"We saw the target. We left him alive. We didn't see this one-" the sound of something splattering and something wet hit Dean, when he looked up, the person, was gone. Looking down, Dean was covered in blood.

Bringing his attention to the man before him, Lucifer, that's what he is sticking with because Cas can't do that...or maybe he could. He was wiping drops of blood from his face, a smile appearing once again.

"You know what, I thought about it. This is just fine. Michael's vessel. It's perfect. We keep you, Dean, in a secure location so Michael doesn't interfere with our plans,"

What the hell is this guy talking about? Lucifer seemed to notice, head tilting to the side, biting his lip.

"Of course you wouldn't know. But since you're going to become our prisoner, might as well let you in on the real reason the Purge was started,"

Lucifer turned around, walked up and hopped up on top of the altar. Legs swinging as leaned back on his hands.

"Let's start from the beginning. My demons were getting restless. Feeding became hard. So we struck a deal with these lowly humans in their time of need."

Dean gave him a confused look.

"The economy was on the verge of collapse. We told them we could help solve this problem by allowing us to feed one night a year."

That sinking feeling was back. And Dean wasn't surprised it hadn't ripped through his pants and spilled all over the floor.

"Eventually...we were able to slowly take over the bodies of key leaders, creating the 'Founding Fathers,'" Lucifer smirked, which turned into a couple of chuckles of laughter.

"Whenever someone new rises, I just send one of my demons in to snatch them up or kill them,"

The image of Senator Roan flashed through Dean's mind. The hanging. The body. "Purge" carved into her.

"But this body," gesturing to himself. "Found what we were looking for. My perfect vessel."

Fear. That's definitely fear creeping through his body when his first thought was Sam.

"We found my vessel a couple of years back," staring into Dean's eyes, trying to make a point.

The night Sam was attacked. The images of his brother sprawled out in the dirt.

"The plans were ruined, but we figured a way to get to him. You see, 'Castiel'...he's interesting. To say the least. Quite boring but big ambitions to stop the purge."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"So we abducted him, a big wig who we knew Sam would try to save. My demons were able to raise me out of that cage. Taking forever, might I add, breaking all those chains. By Letting Castiel "Wake up" during the purge- and you know the rest,"

He-lucifer-he was in the bunker. He could have escaped at any time. But it was a setup. To have Sam chase after Castiel. But Dean came instead. Which would be placing Sam in danger.

"Now that we know how to get in, you're almost useless, if you weren't my brother's vessel. Now that I walk among you with this meat suit, we can move forward with bringing Hell to Earth."

Something caught the corner of his eye, silver, a blade tucked near one of the side pews. The gun probably won't do much, but it's a good distraction.

If you damage the vessel would they leave, or kill the demon in a vessel, do they die?

Lucifer continued talking, Dean forming his plan. Yes, he was trying to get over the fact that the supernatural exists, but like hell, he was gonna sit back and let something happen to his home.

He slowly rose to his feet, the "demons" beside him watching intently.

"Course, there’s nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he’s on a holy mission for himself." The smile disappeared, a hard frown on Lucifer's lips.

"You’re a freaking child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want, doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want." At that, he pulled out his gun, firing it into the man's skull beside him, shoving the oncoming attacker to dark towards the pews.

He heard Lucifer call out to him, taunting him to come out to play. Dean's adrenaline was pumping, he looking around, discovering a silver blade. One he's never seen before.

Just managing to grip the weapon in his hand when he felt hands on his ankles, pulling him out from his hideout. In the fray, Dean turned and stabbed at the attacker.

The woman, the blade digging into her chest, her body flashing orange then black internally before collapsing to the floor.

"Where did you find that," the voice low in a growl. Looking over, Lucifer's whole demeanor changed from relaxed to downright tense and dangerous.

"Found it, did wonders on your demon there," smirking, feeling his confidence start to bubble. "Now leave his body."

Lucifer looked from Dean to his demons who were now standing before him.

"You are severely outmatched," gesturing with his chin for the demons to attack.

He doesn't know how or why, but why look a gift horse in the mouth, when Dean was able to take out the remaining three demons.

Covered in blood and huffing from the exertion, he turned towards Lucifer, who wore a cocky smile bringing his fingers up, ready to snap.

"You may have the Angel Blade, but you're still human," snapping his fingers to emphasize. Dean paused in his advance towards the man, internally sighing in relief when nothing happens. He kept moving, Lucifer continuing to snap his fingers until Dean grabbed his shirt collar and punching him in the face.

Dean kept him in place from his hold, punching him again to the face and once more but to his stomach.

He shoved the man onto the altar, keeping his grip, using his body to hold the man in place, the angel blade poised above him.

"Get out of him,"

"Heh, you know, Castiel. He likes you," Lucifer said, teeth bloodied, a trail of blood coming out of his nose.

Dean stared at the man.

"No, I'm serious. Believe it or not, your paths crossed on more than one occasion. Admired you from afar,"


"How am I lying? His brother owns the bakery you love. He's always there but you never see him. Given his status, you are quite daft,"

Wait...that weird guy that...that sits in the corner. Quite all the time. Has that...uncomfortable stare. That guy?

A different person than on TV. That man's confident. Has the aura of authority about him.

It's just a persona then

In the dark recess of Dean's mind, he kind of liked that. Someone taking authority over him.

Wait! He's distracting him.


Lucifer chuckled.

"You remember now. This means you won't hurt this body," Lucifer tried to move but was stopped by Dean pressing into him harder.

"Get. Out." Dean brought the tip of the blade to Lucifer's throat till a pearl of blood form followed by a white light spilling from the wound.

"You wouldn't-"

"Try me," pressing just a bit more.

Lucifer looked from Dean to the blade.

“As every great villain says, You haven’t seen the last of me,” before a blinding light burst from Cas’ eyes and mouth. Dean turned watched as a sliver of light float above him for a few minutes before drifting out the broken window Lucifer created earlier.

A groan in front of him snapped Dean back to the man before him. Cas’s eyes were closed, a hand coming up to hold his nose.

“Cas,” relief in his voice, Dean moved the blade away, tucking it into his belt before keeping Cas upright. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that,”

Cas groaned again, his eyes squinting through the obvious pain in his face, to Dean. Eyes widening, he looked around.

“Dean, we have to get out of here, Luc-”

“He’s gone, how are you feeling?”

Pulling his hand from his nose, probably seeing the blood from the cut there, before shaking his head.

“I don’t know. At first, I thought I strapped to a freaking comet, the next I'm winning the election. As if nothing ever happened.”

Dean shook his head, not able to comprehend the thought of being possessed. Much less Lucifer or a Demon.

“Glad to have you back, Cas. But not to rush things, we need to get out of here before Lucifer comes back.” Nodding in agreement, Dean made sure Cas could walk before they made there was down the aisle of pews to the front door.

“Hey Dean, I’m-”

“Nope, no chick flick moments,” Dean looked Cas in the eye, staring firmly get his point across, Cas nodding, right as Dean opened the door.

“Shit,” Dean uttered after seeing a whole front lawn of the church filled with people.

Not people. Demons. Their eyes black.

“Out the back,” Dean scrambled to shut the door, grabbing the closest thing, a candelabra, to stick in the handles to keep the door closed.
They rushed back down the aisle to the back room just in time to hear the door smash open.


“Ditch the coat,” Dean huffed out, once they managed to find a secure alleyway with no one around.

“My-what?” Cas, equally out of breath, slumped over trying to catch his breath.

“The coat. You’re like a beacon with that thing on.” Dean gestured to the atrocity of a trenchcoat that managed to get them caught twice. “Don’t worry. You can buy a whole new one once this night is over,” in a reassuring voice.

Cas looked from Dean to his coat. Reluctantly, he started maneuvering out of the said coat. He looked around, trying to find a place to chuck it.

He didn’t have long to chose when they heard rapid footsteps heading their way. Dropping it right then and there, the two sprinted down the dark alleyway.

“Take the next left,” Dean panted out.

“Now right,” And so on til Dean grabbed Cas to halt him, grabbing the closest door. Pushing Cas in, Dean followed suit after looking around.

Dean’s vision was plunged back into a familiar pink.

“Dean, where-”

“Tell you later,” Dean interrupted, pulling the man down a hallway full of doors.

Dean nodded towards Alicia, the girl from earlier as he dragged Cas down the hallway, stopping at the third door on the left, opening it and pushing Cas into the room.

It wasn't that big but it looked like a storage room for the tables and chairs for the place. Stacks of chairs to one side and three tables, one stacked on top of the other while the latter was free of anything and shoved against the wall.

He turned around at the sound of the door shutting, plunging the room into the darkness.

"Drop your pants," Dean commanded as he took off his flannel shirt, so he was only wearing the black t-shirt underneath, and shoving it between the stacks of chairs.

Cas stared in horror, his eyes adjusting to the little lighting they had from under the door, as he watched Dean fiddle with his belt just before dropping his pants as well.

"Do you want to get caught?" At that, the sound of crashing and screams could be heard in the other room. Which, thank whoever, snapped Cas out of it. He reached for his belt, hands shaking. After managing to get one leg out of his pants, he was suddenly lifted off the ground and onto the closest table by Dean, eliciting a small squeak of surprise from Cas.


"Shh, follow my lead. Keep your forehead on my shoulder and play along." Dean hooked the back of Cas' legs and leaning forward so his forehead was resting on Cas' shoulder.

He felt all sense of what was happening when Deans clothed crotch brushed against Cas' again and again in a thrusting motion.

One hand gripping Dean's left shoulder, the other holding onto his forearm for dear life as Dean continued the rocking motion.

Cas could feel his face heating up at the same time, biting his lip to stifle any noise, he heard the loud conversations on the other side of the door.

"I don't care! Check them all!" Followed by the sounds of doors opening and closing.

"Cas," Dean whispered, his movements stopping, his head moving back to look at Cas in the dim light, "We're gonna get caught if you don't-"

"I-I've never…" his voice trailing off, his grips tightening on Dean.

"Never what?"


"You've never be-jesus christ-"

The sound of a door banging nearby disrupted anymore talk.

"Ok, fuck it," Dean leaned forward, his hand coming up to move Cas' head to his shoulder before replacing his hand under Cas' knee. 

Then Dean did something that caused Cas to let out a muffled cry.

Dean had kissed his neck, followed by a swipe of his tongue in a small spot at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet.

Cas couldn't hold back at the new feeling, a whimper escaping his lips as Dean kept up his assault.

"That's it," Dean said in a hushed voice, his hips starting up their thrusting movement. "Just a little louder,"

Dean continued kissing, licking and the occasional sucking on Cas' neck.

While Cas became a whimpering, panting mess, his grip on Dean alternating between loose to a vice-like grip, feeling himself getting harder and harder from the friction of Dean rubbing against him.

"They might be in here,"

"Then check and stop questioning,"

"I wasn’t-oh shit,"


"Don't stare!"

"I-I wasn't, I just didn't expect-" 

"Shut the door, I don't wanna see that," followed by the sound of the door slamming shut. But neither person in the small room was paying attention.

"D-Dean.." Cas huffed out in between breaths, feeling that intense sensation that keeps building and building.

Dean hummed, not paying attention, giving a particularly loud suck to Cas' neck causing the man below him to grip tighter right as he started convulsing.

There was silence except for the heavy breathing between the two.

Castiels' eyes squeezed tight, his grip not letting up.

"Cas," Dean started, pulling away from the man's neck, probably gonna be a whole bunch of hickies their, to try and look into the Cas' eyes.

"Are-are you-I mean-I didn't-"

"It's fine," Castiel panted out, repeating it over and over, looking up at Dean. The darkness making it hard to read his facial expression.

"I-we should get dressed," Dean said, carefully setting Castiel's legs down and backing away. "They're probably gone by now,"



"How did you know that would work?" Castiel asked after slipping out of the brothel.

"No one likes seeing two people getting it on all and heavy. Makes them uneasy,"

Cas nodded, not truly understanding.

“Hold on,” Dean called out, looking down at his watch. “Crap, let’s kick in high gear. Follow me,”

6:30 am

"Everything’s set,”

“Alright, we're gonna sprint across. Count down from ten then open the door.” Dean replied into the phone. “The second I hand up,”

Dean and Cas looked at each other then back at the phone. Looking out, the could demons scattered around the bunker in Bobby’s salvage yard. Some of the traps were already sprung with bodies hanging in the air or laying across the ground.

“Just keep going, don’t look back,” Dean commented, finally pressing the end button. “Go!”

Heartbeat in their ears, the two sprinted across the way. Their aim is the sturdy steel door at the end.










“Look out!”














Dean, Sam, Cas, and Bobby sat opposite the door, the pounding on the door loud throughout the hall. Two of the four gasping for air like crazy, just being glad they are now somewhere safe.

Looking down, amazed that it had worked, the salt line was doing exactly as Cas had told them.

Just before they got to the bunker, Cas remembered something while he was possessed. Not really wanting to get into details with Sam at the moment, salt kept the demons at bay. Followed by other useful things he picked up.

The banging on the door calmed eventually, allowing the four to release the anxious breath they’d been holding it the entire time.

“You got a lot of explaining to do, Dean,” Bobby said, breaking the silence, and being the first to get up. Everyone followed suit. Dean wasn’t expecting to be enveloped in a hug by Sam so soon, relaxing into his grip and patting his back. Feeling a pat on his own back, Dean turned to see Bobby.

“But you can wait till the purge is over,” Sam let go, squeezing Dean’s shoulder as Bobby and he walking down the hall to the main room. 

Dean and Cas stood there in awkward silence.

“Thank you,” Cas was the first to break the silence.

“You’re welcome,” Dean replied.

Silence again.

“Would you-” Dean trailed off.

Cas stared at him.

“Do you want to get some coffee after this?”


Two Years Later

On the television, the count from the presidential election is happening, and it’s close. They show that Cas has won Florida, the nail-bitter state of all elections. But Cas won!

After being sworn into office, his first act was to decree the end of the purge.

Met but a lot backlash, with the head of his special operatives, known as the Hunter’s, lead by his husband, Dean, they were able to overcome the Demons enough to put an end to the purge indefinitely.

As for Lucifer. Let’s just say, the next time he shows his face, they’ll be prepared.