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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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731
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Making the Apocalypse Fun

Summary:

When the Trickster is on your side, who says the Apocalypse has to be...you know, serious? 

Work Text:

Making the Apocalypse Fun
by Sam-Tony

 

The day had dawned clear and bright and - though both Winchesters had told their respective angels to go fuck themselves, in no way were either Lucifer or Michael getting inside either of them until Lucifer was ice skating in his own backyard - both sides had been determined there would be an Apocalypse after all, despite having to make do with second best.

With a rotting Nick on one side, a once dead but recently brought back Adam Winchester on the other, brother angels faced each other across the battlefield, drew their golden swords, and rallied their troops; demons and angels alike thirsting and crying for the clang and blood of a battle they had been told was only their due; destined for millennia. Fated. Inescapable.

Well, Dean Winchester said fuck that; he and Sammy had better things to do than play Doctor Phil to a bunch of dicks who were determined to drag the world into their petty squabbles.

Unfortunately petty squabbles weren't that petty when you had the power of Heaven and Hell to play around with. Fortunately for the mere humans inhabiting the area around Detroit, Sam and Dean had a Trickster, a rogue angel and rogue demon up their sleeves to try and contain the damage.

So of course it figured both sides wanted them out of the way first.

Instead of hellfire - actual hellfire - Lucifer got red rose petals showering down on their little band of rebels.

Instead of the lightning Michael cast down at Dean? There was only the strobe lights of any of a million discos from the 70's flashing among the rolling clouds in the sky; annoying but harmless. Instead of the horrible rumble of angelic thunder, Michael got a sharp wolf whistle any construction worker would have been proud to produce.

Instead of the car one demon threw over his head at Sam? A million bubbles drifted harmlessly over him, catching in his hair and making him cross-eyed as they popped against the tip of his nose.

Instead of the terrible, rending wind of the champion archangel of the Lord, Michael got a gentle breeze playing Ava Maria from a soft pan flute.

Beside him Castiel stared at the milling angels and demons alike and ground out, "Gabriel, what are you doing?"

"Making the apocalypse fun, bro!" the trickster crowed on the other side of their little fivesome, Bobby scratching his head in the middle between Sam and Dean as both sides started a melee on their own, pulling both Michael and Lucifer's attention away from Team Free Will Plus One and back to their own troops.

The next time they saw Lucifer in his broken vessel, the devil was scowling and trying to pull off the pink tutu Gabriel had snapped him in. As for Michael, the archangel was obviously trying to ignore the bright red and black silk kimono he was wrapped in, though the blocky little shoes kept him tripping over his own two feet.

After a few moments of staring, Dean broke it off, declaring gleefully, "Well you can't argue with that. Anybody got any popcorn?"

As chairs, bottles of ice cold beer, and five rather large bowls of popcorn were snapped into existence, Sam and Dean looked at Bobby who just shrugged and looked to Castiel who, after a pensive moment of peering into the mess that was the dreaded Apocalypse, cast his brother a dry smile and claimed both chair and refreshments. Gabriel snickered and did the same, casting a sardonic eyebrow up at the Winchesters as they stared at the two angels in disbelief.

After all the - pardon the expression - hell they had been through the last few years, THIS was what it all came down to? Destiny and manipulation and the Devil Wears Ballet Slippers?

Eventually the helpless looks Dean and Sam threw each other were interrupted by Bobby yanking them both down into their own chairs with an exasperated growl of "Jus' enjoy it, ya idjits!", huge grins growing over their faces as bottles of beer were raised in salute.

They always said the Apocalypse could be fought without them; maybe Bobby was right and it was time they just sit back and enjoy the show.

Besides, as much as Dean hated to admit it, Gabriel conjured up damned good beer.

 

End