Tempters & Tryants

***1830***
‘What a civilized pub.’ He thought with a chuckle, caramel eyes scanning the comfort chairs circling the fireplace. Spotting his friend at the bar, he re-adjusted his velvety-red hat and stepped forward. “Sir Patrick.” He bowed slightly.
Patrick was dressed in black-and-white, curly black hair slicked away from his rugged face. With a small nod of acknowledgement, he turned towards the pub-master. “’cuse me, yes, some ale for my pal please. Thank you,” His Irish accent combined with his bizarre speech, earned a few curious glances from the other patrons. Patrick’s lips curled around his glass as he faced his friend. “Come up with a name for yaself yet?” he asked.
“I’m not sure….I’m kind of liking Charlie.”
“You mean Charles.”
He shook his head. “Charlie’s cuter.” He argued with a small smirk.
Patrick rolled his eyes, setting his glass down beside Charlie’s ale. “Guessin’ ya finally found yourself a dame?” he responded.
“Not even close,” Charlie sighed, resting his weight on the counter as he raised the ale to his lips.
“Then what’s it matter if Charlie’s cuter?” Patrick pressed.
“I didn’t say I don’t want a dame.” Charlie replied.
“You can be difficult to be around sometimes you know that?”
“That how you speak to friends?”
“Friends I’ve been with for over a century now? Yes.” Patrick replied, his gaze traveling to the other patrons.
Charlie coughed on his ale. “…Has it been that long?” he wheezed.
“’fraid so.” Patrick confirmed. “Oi,” he nudged Charlie’s elbow, nodding towards the door. “Here comes Benton.” Charlie’s eyes landed on the wrinkled man in powder-blue clothing, making his way towards them. “That proof enough for ya?” Pat added.
“….He was much younger, last I saw him,” Charlie hesitantly said.
“Ya don’t say...” Patrick murmured finishing the last of his wine.
“I’ve finally discovered the formula to immortality.” Benton greeted, his withered voice crackling through the air.
Patrick laughed while Charlie smiled weakly. “And not a moment too soon by the looks of it aye?” Patrick responded.
Benton looked down at his veined hands, a sneer etching his lips as his gaze traveled upward. “Very few are blessed with immortality at birth. As I recall,” he stepped closer to Patrick, twisting his head to study Pat’s face. “You weren’t one of them,” he breathed.
“Easy doc,” Charlie said, pushing a gentle hand against Benton’s chest.
“Apologies Loki.” Benton replied, though his eyes were locked on Patrick.
“Ooo.” Charlie flinched shaking his head.
“Charles is his name now.” Patrick informed.
This earned Benton’s attention. “Finally shedding your pagan roots?” he asked.
“Never had a choice in the matter did I?” Charlie answered.
“A plague on Baldur’s head.” Patrick said raising his glass.
“A plague called mistletoe.” Charlie chuckled, raising his glass too. Benton bowed his head while they drank their alcohol. “Now then Doc, tell us about this formula of yours.”
“Aye but before you do, if you’d like to shed a couple years so you may enjoy a youthful immorality ….” Patrick let his sentence trail off with a twitch of his shoulders.
“I’m to trust you?” Benton sneered.
“No need to get personal old man.” Patrick replied.
“Enough you two,” Charlie interrupted, setting his glass down. “I see Barnum. Barnum! Come heither and bring that contraption with ya.” He called. Ignoring the glares shooting between Pat and Bent, Charlie wrapped his arm around either one of them. “Smile boys.”
Barnum rushed up with his picture-taker, a cack of blinding light and a burning scent….

***The Present***
Charlie cradled the yellowed photo in his palms, a sigh building in his chest. “Good knowing you boys.” He murmured. Hesitant fingers attempted to fold Patrick and Benton back but either side of the photo tore in a crumble, causing the image of Charlie to float downward. The photo landed in the tin box at Charlie’s feet, he kicked it closed, then abandoning the other halves of the photo, Charlie hunched down to the earth. Placing the tin box into a hole in the ground, Charlie hastily spread dirt over it. Brushing his hands together as he stood, Charlie’s attention was drawn to a lean, blonde woman standing three feet away. “Well that was quick.” He mused.
A smile twisted on her lips, as she stepped forward. “I’m Lilith.” She greeted, flipping her hair back.
“Lilith? I thought Lilith was a lil girl…” Charlie replied.
She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I am, but I thought a grown-up body would be best.” Lilith said, eyes flashing white as she bit her lip seductively. “Was I wrong?”
“I also thought,” Charlie continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “That Lilith was the boss.”
“I am.”
“So where’s your lackies?”
Lilith shook her head. “They don’t get a part of this deal.” She raked her fingers through his hair, then whispered in his ear: “You have no idea what a Trickster soul is worth…”
Charlie smirked, his eyes on the sky. “I know,” he cupped a hand around her neck. “I’m priceless.” Smiling she leaned forward the same time as him. His nose bumped against hers, then her chin sprang up as he yanked her hair. As she screamed, Charlie pulled her head away from him and towards Castiel Her scream grew as Castiel clamped his palm against her forehead. Light shone from her open mouth and eyes, causing Charlie to wince. Charlie released Lilith as her body went limp. “Why didn’t you tell me killing Jude would mean having to hunt down all the demons he was made of?” Charlie complained crossing his arms as Castiel kneeled to check her pulse. “I might not have done it.”
Castiel glanced up at him. “He killed ~~~~~~~~~.” he pointed out.
“…Don’t remind me,” Charlie muttered, pacing.
“We’ve never dealt with anything like Jude, we weren’t even sure he existed. Angels aren’t supposed to create life.” Castiel said, straightening. “This vessel is dead.” He added glancing up from the woman Lilith had possessed.
“Speaking of Lucifer, now that Jude and his back-up meatsuit (Sam) are gone, what is he gonna do?” Charlie asked.
Castiel didn’t meet his gaze. “He’ll…have found someone else he can inhabit…” Castiel said, his eyes darting to Char.
“Who?” Charlie pressed. Castiel stiffly shrugged. “You don’t know???”
“I am unsure how vessels come to be…” Castiel admitted. “Something to do with bloodlines….”
Charlie watched as Cas slowly tilted his head. “Oh great. The headtilt.” Castiel frowned at him. “What is it?” Charlie asked.
“A thought just occurred to me…”
“Well that cant be good.”
Castiel missed the sarcasm, as he turned towards him. “You said ~~~~~~~ disappeared?” he began.
“…Yeah. Jude musta snagged her.” Charlie said softly.
“Did you see….smoke?”
“..Smoke? No. One second she was there, the next she wasn’t..”
“Then it wasn’t Jude.” Castiel announced.
Charlie blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?” he blurted.
“I saw Jude appear. A demonic aura was issuing off of him…”
“…When he snagged me….there was like…whispy black smoke.”
“Exactly.” Castiel said.
“You’re saying Jude didn’t kill ~~~~~~~~~?” Charlie asked, urgency lighting his tone.
“No I’m sure he did but…” Castiel trailed off, staring into space.
An agitated Charlie shook his arm, regaining his attention. “But what?” he hissed.
“….Vlad.”
“…What?!”
“Vlad took ~~~~~~~…delivered her to Jude.” Castiel paused to sigh. “He escaped.” He said to himself, eyes searching the sky.
“Who’s..Vlad? What are you talking about?” Charlie pressed.
“The first time Lucifer...bucked out of his cage you might say," Cas began. "He didnt...mold Jude as we originally thought...Instead he reached out to a human, twisting his morals, poisoning his mind with rath..."
“Why?” Char asked.
“To show God how right he had been – that humans were….destructive.”
“….And?”
Castiel frowned. “And?” he repeated blankly.
“And. I’m sensing an ‘and’….that there’s more.” Charlie explained.
“We believe Lucifer unintentionally poured some of his soul into the Prince of Wallachia....Vlad Dracul the third.” Castiel finished.
"Whoa-whoa wait," Charlie said with the shadow of a laugh. "You're telling me, Lucifer embodied a part of himself?!"
"Unintentionally," Castiel repeated. Charlie just stared. ”It was the first time he had reached out of hell, he used too much force….that energy had to go somewhere.”
“…When did you dunderheads figure that out?” Charlie challenged.
A glare passed over Castiel’s features. “Regrettably…we did not fully understand until Vlad had slaughtered many people, foes and friends alike.” He continued.
“Idiots.” Charlie breathed, breaking eye contact.
“When we learned of Vlad's deeds, there was no question - he had to be stopped. But..." Castiel paused, a frown tugging at his lips.
“But what?”Charlie pressed.
“It would've been.....irresponsible to kill Vlad or throw him into hell. We would've returned power to Lucifer, power that we knew he could use to effect Earth...."
“..Okay…so what’d you do?”
"We called on the Roman God Vulcan to bury him in the heart of a volcano on Snagov..."
Charlie blinked. “…THAT was the best solution? You shoulda just killed him!” he blurted.
“Killing him might’ve…” Castiel began.
“Yeah you said that.” Charlie interrupted. “But it also could’ve weakened Lucifer. Did you airheads even consider that?”
“….We could not chance it.” Castiel said firmly.
Charlie laughed in disbelief then sighed studying Cas. “Is there a reason you brought all this up?” he hestiantly asked.
“Perhaps…Vlad’s decedents could serve as Lucifer’s vessel.”
“…You’re joking.”

Nick hated how easy it was shopping for one. He didn’t even have to go an actual store. Forcing a smile at the cashier, he then glanced around Family Dollar awkwardly. Nick caught his reflection in the mirror. He patted at his sandy hair miserably, studying his suken green eyes. Supressing a sigh, Nick paid for his pitiful groceries and swiftly left. He drove him in silence, trying to ignore the memories that flooded him everytime he pulled into his own driveway. He should’ve moved, he knew he should’ve…but he just couldn’t. Nick stared at his house a moment, then releasing the sigh he had held in earlier, grabbed his groeries and exited the car. He half-heartedly hit the lock button as he reached the front door. Nick almost wanted someone to steal his car, it would be a perfect excuse to quit his job. Nick shuffled into his home, and hit the switch. His lighted living room revealed a stranger sitting on his couch, who didn’t seem to notice Nick stagger in surprise. “Hey Nick,” the stranger greeted cheerfully.
“W-Who the hell are you?” Nick asked.
The stranger pushed himself to his feet. “My name’s Vlad. I’m your great-great-great-great…ah – I’m your ancestor, let’s leave it at that.” Vlad grinned with a wave of his arm.
“…Your bedroom doesn’t happen to have padded walls does it?” Nick replied.
Vlad laughed softly. “That’s cute.” He said, pocketing his hands as he started towards him. “Forget the ancestor thing.”
“Look if you’re here to rob me….” Nick paused to set down the groceries. “I’m afraid I have a problem with that.”
“Oh do you?” Vlad challenged.
“Yeah. You see, the last time I was robbed…” Nick stepped forward so he was face-to-face with Vlad. “My wife and baby were killed.” He announced.
Vlad nodded slightly. “That’s actually why I’m here.” He replied, retreating to the couch.
Nick was stunned. “…What?” he breathed.
Vlad reclined onto the couch, spreading his arms. “Ho w would you feel, about revenge Nick?” he asked. Nick’s eyes narrowed. “No I don’t know who invaded your home that night, and I aint talking about going after those no good cops either.” Vlad sat forward. “I’m talking about revenge against…” he pointed upward. “The Big Guy.” He whispered.
“…You are insane.” Nick replied.
“Noooo…well, maybe. But I’m not joking Nicky. And you cant…stand there and say you arent mad at God. I know you are! How could you not be? He allowed your family to get murdered and worse, He let the killer get away with it. What kind of God is that?” Vlad said.
Tears had started to fill Nick’s eyes, though he wasn’t sure if they were from rage or sadness. “…How do you know all this?” he asked softly.
Vlad stood. “Because. We’re blood.” Vlad answered.
“I’ve never seen you before.” Nick murmured as Vlad walked up to him again.
Vlad clapped his hands on Nick’s shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting even with that…” Vlad glared up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth. “…uncaring bastard.”
Nick laughed as he spoke, unbelieving: “And how would we do that?”
Vlad spread his hands into the air. “Easy. Say yes - let Lucifer in.”
“Lucifer?”
“Yeah!…Ya know…Satan…the Devil….Prince of Darkness, he’s got alotta names..”
“I know who he is….I just don’t understand…” Nick said slowly.
“You’d be his vessel..”
“He’d posess me.”
“Don’t…think of it as posession…Think of it as….you being an instrutment of justice.” Vlad declared. Nick buttoned his lips in thought. “Justice for your family. AND. Justice of the only good son God had but He was far too blind to see it…..What do ya say Nick?”
A smile curled on Nick’s face. “Yes.”
The house shook violently, a blinding light engulfing the space. Vlad’s skin rippled from a burst of energy. Blind with his skin scorching, he stumbled backwards colliding with the wall. As Vlad slipped to the floor, the light gradually faded. Blinking several times, Vlad resolved to rubbing his eyes. “Gol-ly….” He complained.
“Well done.” There was an edge to Nick’s voice, implying wisdom and arrogance.
Vlad blinked more, squinting at him. Nick appeared the same but…the way his eyes gleamed was like flame behind glass. “…That you Daddy?” Vlad replied.
“Funny. Now get up.” Lucifer responded. “We have work to do.”
“Right. Wipe out humanity rar-rar-rar. One thing first…”
“What?”
“I want a playmate. Bring Jude back would ya?” Vlad asked, a whine outlining his words.
“I cant.” Lucifer answered. Vlad’s face drooped. “But I may know a way to create a replacement.”
Vlad was perky in an instant. “That works! As long as I have someone to help me destroy the world, I’m good.” He replied.
“You wont be destroying the world, you’ll be extinguishing the filth on it.”
“Right. That’s what I meant.”
“Before we do anything, we need to get something.” Lucifer said.
“Okay, what?” Vlad asked.
“Death’s reaper.”
“Wow. Alright. Why is that?”
“He’ll be coming after me..” Lucifer answered, walking out of Nick’s home.
Vlad blinked a bit more, then winced as his eye started to twitch. “Okay you’re gonna have to explain that to me,” he called, following.

*******

You never felt so sick before in your life. You had awoken in a cold sweat, stumbled into the motel bathroom, and puked in the sink for what felt like an hour. Blood boiling, you looked up at the mirror to discover your vision was swimming. Perfect. This had to be a bad reaction to Charlie’s heart. What an awful thought…oh don’t think. Your head felt like it was gonna explode. You weakly turned toward the door. “De…” you called. Legs buckling in weakness, you heard your head crack as you fell facefirst.

“Good going Pest,” said a saracastic, yet familiar male voice. “she’s bleeding.”
“Well he wanted her and I got her, doesn’t matter what kind of condition she’s in!” replied another male voice with a twinge of an accent. “She already died, she served her purpose. I don’t understand why we need to speak to her.”
“Because Death lost his reaper that’s why! He cant resolve the apocalypse without it, you damn well know that.”
“Why resolve it? If Lucifer sees fit to wipe out humanity, I say we let him!”
“Oh yeah and what the hell am I gonna do for fun without humans shooting at each other for months?”
“Enough.” Said an English voice that sent a horrid shiver up your spine, leaving a sense of dread in its path. “Open your eyes ~~~~~~~~~~~.”
Shit. How’d this person know your name? Still feeling weak, despite your heart thumping in your chest, you slowly opened your eyes. You discovered you were laying on a cot, in a dusty room with three older men. The one nearest you looked familiar – he had silver hair, green eyes and appeared ready to smile. The man not far from him was older, with white hair, blue-ish green eyes and a scowl lighting his features. Then there was the man sitting in the back of the room, on a leather throne. His wrinkled hands were clasped ontop of a cane, a rhinestone ring visible even from this distance. His black hair clung to his face, nearly hiding his hollow cheekbones. The scowly-looking one, leaned towards you a bit. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how was your pain?" he greeted, his voice phasing from a New Zealand drawl to American. “War thinks I was goin’ hard on you.” Your eyes darted from him to the silver-haired gentleman to his left.
“War.” You repeated.
“I think I might cry - you remember me.” War replied, pocketing a hand.
Your eyes returned to the one leaning towards you. “…Pestiliance.” You realized.
“Mm,” Pest hummed straightening up. “Maybe she’s smarter than she looks.” He told War. “Still,” he stepped towards the middle of the room. “Nothin’ more than a toy.” He finished, crossing his arms.
Hearing an electric hum, you glanced over your shoulder and nearly fell off the cot when you say the creased face of an old man with gnarled teeth. “Toys can be useful,” he wheezed apparently not noticing your fright. It did seem however, that he noticed your starring. “For food if nothing else,” he added.
”Go suck on some reapers if you’re hungry Fam, we’ve got business to do here.” War spoke up.
Famine grumbled to himself, his electric chair humming loudly as he circled out of the room. As you watched him leave, your attention was inadvertedly drawn to the man in the back of the room. Death. "Sit up." There was a whisp of English to his voice that almost made it sound like an echo. Heart rattling in your chest, your gaze sliding to War, you did as you were told. Now that you were upright, you realized Death was sitting directly across from you. You wanted to ask what he…they wanted, but your throat was closing up, a flash of panic as your breath clogged your lungs. "Baldur." Death continued slowly.
A pair of hands on your arms somehow startled and comforted you at the same time. Before you could look over your shoulder again, the new person walked into your line of sight and sat down beside you on the colt. He had black hair with flawless skin and deep blue eyes. He gently clasped his hand over yours, then stared at Death undauntingly. “Continue.” He said in an English drawl of his own.
“You shouldn’t allow that pagan to cottle her.” Pest complained bitterly. “She ought to be afraid,” Noticing your anxiety had melted away, you snuck an apprehensive peek at ‘Baldur’ sitting beside you.
Death glanced away from you for what felt like the first time. "Leave us." he ordered.
With a scoff and a silent smirk, Pest and War left in turn.
"What does he want?" you quickly whispered to Baldur.
"I am sitting right here." Death replied. As you stared at him, it occured to you that every word that left his mouth was very empty. Unlike the other horsemen, he was emotionless - there was not a glimer of it in his eyes nor a speck of it in his voice. Each second in his presence felt as if a tiny lump of your soul died...maybe it did. You finally realized he was waiting for you to correct your question.
A lump suddenly clogged your throat, but Baldur squeezed your hand and you were able to speak: "What do you want?" you whispered.
"First. I want to apologize." His fingers tapped against the cane.
"Apologize?" you repeated.
"That's what I said." he responded curtly. Appearing as if he was trying to regain some composure, despite how very little his tone and face had changed, Death's free hand gripped his black jacket closed. "I made a deal with God concerning Lucifer. I wanted him; God begged me with His own life not to claim His favorite son. I caged Lucifer - but I had a condition. Should one of His first born children, fall for one of His second born children, then Lucifer would be released for me to reap. Do you understand?" You slowly shook your head and Death sighed, staring into space again. "He put such great force into the brain, yet only sees fit to allow 10% to be used." he mused. Your eyes narrowed as Death's dark eyes found yours again. "Your fate, Lucifer rising with your passing- that was the deal composed between God and myself. So. I apologize."
Staring at Death, you realized you could have a stare-off with him that could last a lifetime. You finally managed managed to say: ”…Okay.”
“Lucifer, is smarter than I gave him credit for. I was under the impression only God and I knew of our arrangement. A clumsy angel must have spilled.” Death continued, a leer circling his eyes as if this were your fault. “He’s gotten a hold of my reaper. Without it, I cannot slay him permantedly, as infruiating as that is.”
“…And you want me to get it back?” you guessed.
Death broke eye contact, shaking his head. “What ridiculous bravedo. Of course not.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “What you can do, is put him back in his cage.”
Although Baldur’s voice was smooth, you jumped as he talked: “But she’d have to die again in order for you to slay him after a second rising,” he told Death.
Death studied him. “That is not my concern.” He replied. Gulp.”However,” His eyes slid to you. “In fairness,” His fingers closed around his rhinestone ring, and every muscle in your body tensed. “We’ll allow our rings to be a source of defense, against those that would harm you,” Death said.
“Bit late.” Baldur mused. Death glared and you instantly shrank away. It was quite possibly the scariest thing you had ever seen, but Baldur was unfazed.
“…But not for you, to get even with Loki.” Death responded.
“W-Who’s Loki?” you stammered, glancing at Baldur.
Baldur glanced at you sideways. “Not important.” He replied.
“~~~~~~~~~~~,” greeted War, regaining your attention. He had reappeared with Pest and Famine. “You’ll only be able to use our rings once.” He explained, wiggling out of his. “Then they’ll reappear on our fingers.” Taking Death’s and Famine’s, rings War paused staring at Pestiliance.
“I’m not giving her mine.” Pest huffed. “She can do without it.”
With a long sigh, Death picked up his cane and bashed it into the side of Pest's head. Your jaw dropped as Pestiliance thumped to the floor. Reaching down, Death plucked the ring off Pest’s finger. After a quick glance from Death, Baldur raised your hand palm-up. War placed his ring beneath your fingers, then put Famine’s ring on the right while Death put Pestiliance’s ring opposite it. Before War could add Death’s ring, Death reclaimed it and placed it in the crevice of your palm. One of Death's fingers gently hovered over his ring, pushing it forward/upward towards War's and with a metallic snap that startled you, the rings bound together. “Use them as you wish.” Death said.
The next moment, you were back in the bathroom, sitting on the toliet with the Horseman rings still collected on your palm. The door swung open revealing Dean. “Did you say something?…Hey what’s that?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

*********
Castiel stopped short, causing Charlie to nearly walk into him. “What?” Char blurted. Castiel turned his head, and as Charlie followed his gaze he saw a brunette man in a black suit leaning against a wooden fence.
“Evenin’ gents.” He greeted in a smoky British drawl.
“A crossroad demon.” Castiel acknowledged.
“Crowley.” Crowley corrected.
“Sorry pal, my soul’s not really for sale.” Charlie said.
“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Crowley replied.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Charlie asked.
Castiel stepped towards him. “What do you want?” he pressed.
“Just thought you’d want to know, Vlad has Death’s reaper.” Crowley replied.
“What?” Charlie blurted, his gaze darting to Cas momentarily. When he glanced at Crowl again, he was gone. “Where’d he go?” he asked glancing around.
“How did he know about Vlad?” Castiel frowned.
“Uh yeah but…Death has a reaper?” Charlie asked.
“Yes. It is said to kill everything – angels, demons….” Castiel’s eyes narrowed, his frown growing as he glanced at Charlie. “Everything.” He repeated.
Charlie was about to speak when Castiel disappeared too. Charlie tossed his arms in the air, defeated.
“You are aware you left your picture in that box,” Crowley greeted.
“Oh you’re back. Goodie.” Charlie replied, facing him.
Crowley smirked, hands in his pockets. “Techincally, a deal could still be made….since Lilith was rudely interrupted.” He continued.
“So this is about my soul.” Charlie noted.
“You’re a Trickster. Rarer than albinos.” Crowley said simply.
“..Thanks?” Charlie murmured.
Crowley smirked. “You’re welcome.” He replied. They studied each other. “Want to know what I think?” he asked after a moment.
“By all means.” Charlie said crossing his arms.
Crowley’s smirk grew, though his gaze dropped. “I think, you purposely left your picture there in case anything happened to ~~~~~~~~~.” He began.
“Whoa hold on, how do you know about her?” Charlie asked.
“I’m rather invested in your affairs Charles. The end of world? Riveting stuff.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Crowley studied him. “I’m afraid I know more about her than you.” He said.
“Meaning what?” Charlie scoffed.
“Fate, isnt accidental, Charles.” Crowley replied then disappeared in a blink of an eye.