Vapor - Jack Kline

one ↣ pity party

“Okay, let me just get this straight.”

Cara rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back slightly so that she could look at the ceiling. “Here we go.”

Dean was stood at the end of the table, his jaw clenched in irritation. “So... we beat the Brits, we kicked their psycho, tea-swilling asses, and instead of popping champagne and headin' to Vegas, we get Lucifer?”

Mary frowned at Sam, the man just having told them the news. “And you're sure it's him?”

“Yeah. That's his old vessel, too.” He muttered, motioning to the picture as Cara dropped her face into her hand. “How is that possible?” She asked, and he shrugged slightly, still not having quite figured it out himself. “Crowley, I guess…”

“And now he's dead.” Mary said with raised brows, and Dean nodded. “Well, that's what Hess said. But Crowley's a freakin' cockroach. I'll believe he's gone when I see the body and burn it.”

Cara couldn't help but snort. “He'd probably get out of that, too.”

Sam shook his head slightly, pulling them away from their murderous intentions set on the king of hell. “We don't need Crowley. We need Rowena. I mean, she's the one who can slam Lucifer back into the Cage.”

“Great,” said Mary, nodding slightly. “So where is she?”

“I'll call her,” he murmured, pulling out his phone. Cara propped her feet up on the table, letting out an annoyed puff of air. “So,” she said, looking at Dean. “You guys really don't catch a break ever, huh?”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam suddenly froze. The older man looked at him in confusion, arching a brow. “What?”

Sam didn't reply as his jaw tightened. Instead, he pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped a button.

Cara blinked as an unfamiliar voice sound from the phone, and she tilted her head to the side. “Oh, if you're looking for Rowena, she is presently indisposed. Which is a delicate way of saying, I stomped on her face till the white meat showed, and then set her on fire, just in case.” She quickly gathered an idea of who the guy was, and her face turned into that of a slight wince as she sat up a little straighter while Lucifer hummed.

“Ah. Gingers. It was messy and... screamy, but it had to be done, Sam. I'm about to be a dad. Can't raise the little nipper from a jail cell now, can I? Speaking of... you know where your little pal Castiel is?”

“Go to hell,” Sam gritted out, and the archangel whistled. “Ooh! Good one. Witty. I'll use that in the future.” He said sarcastically, and Cara rolled her eyes slightly. She knew that this guy was supposed to be dangerous - well, that was a given considering he's Satan - but his voice gave her the overwhelming urge to reach through the phone and slap him in the face. “All right, well, I'd love to chat with ya, but, uh, why waste my time, right? It's not like you matter. I don't need to put on the old Sam suit anymore, do I?”

“You know,” Dean intervened with hard eyes. “If you think we're just gonna let you walk –”

“Oh, hey, Dean!” Lucifer interrupted, and Cara could practically hear his cocky smile. “I know you fellas are gonna try, you know, whatever. Whatever you're gonna try. But you can't kill me. You've never been able to kill me. And with, uh, witch bitch gone, you can't put me back in the Cage, so like I said... you don't matter. Okay? Buh-bye.”

There was a click, signaling Lucifer hung up. Cara drummed her fingers against the table as there was a long silence. She broke it by looking up, an irritated glare on her face. “I hate him.”