Getting Home, a Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 4

A/N I'm changing season 12 so that's what's up with this 'kay?
I'm on my 2738th game of solitaire when there's a knock on the door. I open it telekinetically, too lazy to get off my bed and open it. I suppose I could have told whoever it was that they could come in, but where's the fun in that?
Sam stands in the doorway in a very awkward way. I barely glance at him before returning to my game. Well, fudge. I'm out of moves. Why is this so hard? I quickly shuffle my cards and redeal, vaguely aware of the man still standing there.
"What are you playing?" Sam asks politely.
"Solitaire," I reply, my eyes not leaving the cards.
"Have you been playing that all day?" Sam asks.
I nod. "And all night."
"How many games have you played?"
Though it's a rhetorical question, I answer, "2738 and a half."
"Seriously?" Sam says in disbelief.
"Mm-hmm."
"Are you ever planning on coming out?"
I shrug. "Have you found my dad?"
"Well, no, but we will," Sam assures me.
"Then I don't have a reason to leave," I tell him. "Is that all?"
"You can't just stay in here forever," he protests.
"Better here than out there," I reply. "At least here, no one hates me."
"We don't hate you," Sam says.
"Dean and Castiel do," I reply.
"They don't hate you."
I roll my eyes. "Sure. And them wanting to kill me was what, some big misunderstanding? They don't like me. I don't care. I just want to find my family and leave."
Sam opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by the sound of Dean yelling "Son of a bitch!"
"Hold that thought," Sam mutters before running out of my room. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I follow him quickly. I hide as I listen to their conversation. "Dean, what happened?"
"Lucifer is freaking Vince Vincente!" Dean exclaims angrily.
"Vince Vincente?" Sam repeats. "Like, the rock singer?"
"That's the one," Dean confirms.
"How are we ever going to get close to a celebrity?" Sam asks. "It's hard enough to get to a normal person."
"Only if he doesn't want to be found," Dean replies. "We may have something he wants, though."
"Wha-No," Sam says sternly.
"What?" Dean replies innocently.
"We aren't using Macie as a bargaining chip!" Sam replies angrily. "She's just a kid!"
"No, she's Lucifer's kid!" Dean reminds him.
"That doesn't mean we can just give her to the devil!" Sam practically screams.
"Dean's right," Castiel says. "She is our only hope of getting close to him."
"We'll make sure she doesn't get hurt, okay?" Dean adds.
"No, guys, we can't-"
"I'll do it," I announce, stepping into view.
"Macie-" Sam begins, but I interrupts him.
"You're not the only ones looking for him," I remind them. "I want to find him, too. There's no way I'm not coming with you."
"You can't come," Sam repeats sternly.
"You can't stop me," I say teasingly.
"I'm probably a hundred pounds heavier than you," he reminds me. "Yeah, I think I can stop you."
I giggle as he flies up to the wall, but I stop him just before he hits it. I put him down at give him a falsely innocent smile.
"I don't think you can stop me," I say.
Everyone's just staring at me now. I don't blame them. I mean, it's not often someone throws you into a wall to prove a point. I think. Does that happen a lot and I just didn't know?
"Fine," Sam says finally. "But we don't know where we're going, so calm down."
"Actually, we do," Dean tells us. Apparently, Vince Vincente announced that he has a concert nearby tonight. If we leave now, we'll probably get there in time, so that's what we do.

We show up at Vince Vincente's concert to find nothing but people everywhere. I'm sure there's a stage somewhere in this mess, but I don't know where. For all I know, this is a line trying to get in a building. The only break from the crowds is the red carpet leading from the street to god knows where.
"Why are there so many people here?" Dean asks in disgust. "Who listens to this crap?"
"It's called a concert, squirrel," a voice says from behind us. "It's not about the music. It's about being able to say you were there."
I turn around to see a man in a suit standing behind us, the dark hair and beard of his vessel hidden beneath the sight of his true face.
"Demon," I hiss.
He nods approvingly. "Good call. The name's Crowley." He sticks his hand out for me to shake, but I don't move. "And you are...?" he prompts.
"What are you doing here, Crowley?" Dean asks in a tone that implies he's not as welcome as he acts.
"I wanted to see your beautiful face, of course," Crowley replies sarcastically. "No, moron, I'm here for Lucifer."
"We've got this covered," Sam tells him. "We don't need your help."
"Oh, my precious little moose. You always need my help."
"What's going on?" I ask.
"This is Crowley," Dean explains. "He's the ex King of Hell that tries to help us out but usually messes things up more."
"I think you're confusing me and Moose for the last part," Crowley says.
"I don't mess things up a lot!" Sam complains.
"Actually..." Castiel says.
"See, Wings agrees with me," Crowley says with a smirk. "So, what's the plan?"
"The plan is for you to get lost," Dean replies. "Scram." He flicks his hands as if swatting a fly, to which Crowley just rolls his eyes.
"Too late now. Here he comes."
Sure enough, a black limo comes into view. Soon after it parks at the end of the carpet, a guy walks out. I can't see what the guy looks like, though, because it's hidden behind the bright light that is my father.
This is Lucifer.