"𝐖𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔," 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 tried to explain, struggling to breathe, failing to free herself from the near chokehold he'd stuck her in. "me and artiya'il, we.. trapped you, you were -"
lucifer shushed her, his hand crushing her throat further. together they stood facing a house frannie realized too late stood in north cove, washington, overlooking a serene green lake and sloping blue mountains. "i know," he finally spoke, and followed her gaze to the landscape. its simplicity and restful features brought the smile to his face- in contrast to the cage, the region cas had picked was, in a sense, perfect. an ideal place to steal his newborn son back, at the very least. sighing contentedly, lucifer added, "and i'm so glad you did, because you look positively drained! someone's exceeded their daily dark magic quota." his all too familiar smile turned to a frown as he noticed her distraught expression. "oh, don't look at me like that, fran! what were you expecting, your little party trick to hold me forever? i'm lucifer, i escape, it's what i do!"
her head was spinning. she didn't have the time for him, his antics, the monologue. "if.. you're going to kill me," she huffed, "get to it already, spare.. spare me thedreadful.. self-righteous monologue."
"ah, there's the winchester satire i know and love," lucifer mused, rolled his eyes for a theatrical sort of emphasis. he was stalling. it became obvious to her that he was waiting for something, for a signal or an audience. he'd probably prefer to have an audience, would have a better time killing in front of one. "i'm just not a fan of the irony? because.. did i ever say i was going to kill you? if i wanted to kill you, i'm sure i would've said it."
where hadn't he said it? more so, he'd promised it. there was tuscon, aspen, mendocino, reno, and las vegas, and albuquerque.. something was wrong. lucifer did whatever he wanted, but he always had a plan, so he must've had a reason. or was that plainly another paradox?
she didn't have the time to care for such obscurities. the front door of the house opened. "oh, well. you're better off as leverage anyway." frannie was drained, weak, and could only wheeze a protest as he hoisted her suddenly off the ground, hand with superhuman strength wrapped around her neck. her convulsive kicking feet and violent flailing failed to free her amid muffled yelling.
"fran! no!" frannie was disoriented. surprisingly enough, the voice belonged to dean. her head was spinning, it was turned, she couldn't see him, but it was undoubtedly dean. her brother dean, after all this time. dean, or a hallucination. in the case of the former, artiya'il had been right all along. of course they had.
