The Wheels On The Bus Chapter 18

In the end, they all decide to let everybody rest. There’s not much they can do when they don’t have a solid plan anyway, so for now, everybody’s catching up on sleep before they’re sitting back down to discuss their options again. 

Jack and the others are back at their temporary room, also told to get some sleep for the rest of the day, but apparently all of them are restless, because Jack and Adam are both staring up at the ceiling blankly and Belphegor keeps rolling over every now and then because he can’t sleep.

“For the last time,” Adam says through gritted teeth after Belphegor turns on his side again. “Stop.”

“Nothing’s comfortable,” Belphegor says. 

“You don’t even need sleep,” Adam says. 

“Yes, but, I like pretending to,” he says.

“We can knock you out,” Jack offers.

Belphegor shuts up. 

Adam sighs in relief. 

The three of them just let the silence wash over the room. It’s been an eventful few hours, and the last few had still been stressful even if all they did was talk plans with everyone else. The sun is going to be up in a few minutes, and Jack thinks it feels like it’s been a whole week already. 

Belphegor moves again, but it’s quieter this time. Bastard really was just making noise on purpose. 

There are no windows in this room. As long as the lights are off, they can pretend it’s still night.

“Hey, Adam?” Jack asks.

“Yeah?”

“Why can’t we just save Michael now?”

Adam takes a while to answer. “If we do, we can get Chuck to show up right here,” he says. “He can just grab Michael again, and we’d be back where we started.” A pause. “And...truthfully, I’m afraid that will endanger everyone else. If Chuck gets pissed, there’s a hundred civilians who might get killed.”

Jack nods. “Michael wouldn’t want that.”

“Michael would expect us to be smarter than that, so we’re going to be smarter than that,” Adam says. “If being smarter than that means trusting him to hold out and planning carefully, then that’s what we’re going to do.”

He has a point, and Jack understands that it pains Adam a lot to say it, but it’s the logical choice, in the grand scheme of things. Michael would kill them with his bare hands if he knew that they’d deliberately endangered themselves and their only shot at saving at world just because they were feeling sentimental about him. He’d probably be touched, but in the end, he’d still kick their asses. They have one job, and they can’t afford to fuck it up when the rest of the world is at stake. 

“Bastard’s probably universe-hopping right now, or something,” Belphegor says, quietly.

“Is that why we can’t hear him anymore?” Jack asks.

“Probably,” Belphegor says. “Hell and Earth are one plane right now, or close to it, ‘cause of what’s going on, but everything else is still separate. It’s why humans have to pray to angels if they’re staying in heaven and everything. They have to invoke a name because it’s a gateway of power.”

“Huh,” Adam says. “So he could just be in Heaven.”

“If Chuck hasn’t chased him away from there, yeah,” Belphegor says. “But he’s smart. He wouldn’t lead Chuck to Heaven and have the remaining angels there fall at his feet. He’s not gonna put us at a disadvantage.”

“So he could just be in any universe right now,” Jack says. 

“Yeah,” Belphegor says. “Oh, shit, how awkward do you think it’s gonna be if he lands in Apocalypse’verse?”

Jack laughs. Adam snorts. 

“That would be trippy,” Belphegor says. “He can probably fix the place, if he has time, though.”

“He’s probably busy running,” Adam says.

“He’s got time to sightsee,” Belphegor says. “I wonder what’s happened there.”

“We got all the hunters we could here,” Jack says. “Of course, they…” He pauses, voice cracking at the end. Adam and Belphegor stay mercifully silent. He clears his throat. “Maybe in other parts of the world, the war is still going on.”

“They never got their closure, did they?” Adam says. “Some of their people got to cross over, and…”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Yeah, it’s - it’s fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jack pauses. “Yeah, me too.”

“Maybe we can help them,” Belphegor tries, “After we fix our front yard and all, of course.”

“What, you’re planning to stick around?” Adam asks. 

“I already told you my plan to rule Hell was haphazard, didn’t I? What, did I plan for Chuck to pop Hell open and for me to suddenly have the opportunity to seize the crook?” Belphegor scoffs. Jack eyes the crook, perched on a table pushed by the wall. “I like Earth. It’s warm here.”

“Hell’s plenty warm,” Adam says. “I mean, the Cage was cold, sure, but the rest of Hell’s warm.”

“Hell is scorching. There’s a difference,” Belphegor corrects.

“I’m slightly bummed out I’m the only one out of the four of us who’s never been to Hell,” Jack says. 

“And it’ll stay that way if we have anything to say about it,” Adam says. 

“Yeah, listen to your uncle.” Belphegor laughs. “It’s not worth it.”

“Why do you like Earth, though?” Jack asks. “Aside from that it’s not as hot as hell.”

“People here fight over the stupidest shit,” Belphegor says. “Pineapple or no pineapple on pizza. Mint ice cream or no mint ice cream. Is this game better than that? It’s all so trivial.”

“Earth’s pretty hellish too, you know,” Adam says. “Maybe a lot worse.”

“I know,” Belphegor says. “I’ve heard from every soul I’ve encountered in Hell. This place is the fucking worst, if we had to rank Heaven, Hell, Purgatory and Earth.”

“Why are you sticking around, then?” 

Belphegor hums. “Possibility,” he decides. “Earth sucks, but there’s always the possibility of it getting better. It can get worse, sure, but the fact that it can also get better is a deal breaker.” Jack sees him move his arms so that he can put his hands behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “I like possibilities.”

“Possibilities, huh,” Adam says.

“That is cheesier than I expected,” Jack says.

Adam laughs so hard, he probably wakes the rest of the school up, but no one’s getting up to check. Belphegor grabs his pillow and throws it at Jack.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, we look alike now!” he says.

“Hey, you stole my body.”

“We’re past that, we just saved a school together!”

Jack snickers. “I was stuck in here with Adam, so no, not really.”

“You keep bullying me but as soon as this apocalypse is over and I’m not dealing with this fucking headache anymore, it’s all over for the both of you,” Belphegor says, sitting up for a moment to menacingly point at both of them before lying back down. 

The silence this time is more comfortable. Friendlier. It’s like their usual days at the bunker again. 

“I think that’s why Michael likes it here too,” Adam says.

“Isn’t that just because of you - “

“I’m pretty sure that’s just because of you - “

Belphegor and Jack both accusingly point at each other from across the room. “Jinx. Double jinx. Triple jinx. Shit!”

“You didn’t even say the same thing,” Adam says.

“It was close enough,” Belphegor says.

“Well, you can’t owe each other soda, we’re busy saving the world.”

“There’s vending machines,” Jack says. “Oh, man, I haven’t had nougat since I got back.”

“I owe you nougat, you owe me sparkling water.”

“You really are a demon, you drink that static shit,” Adam says.

“It tastes like how pop rocks feel like,” Belphegor says. He stretches, yawning. 

“Are you actually tired?” Jack asks.

“I’m stressed as fuck and I could sleep for years even if I don’t need it,” Belphegor says, listing forward so he falls onto his pillow face-first. His next words are muffled. “You two should sleep too.”

“He’s right, Jack, we should get rest,” Adam says. “We’ll plan tomorrow. Like, tomorrow-tomorrow.”

Jack nods. “Yeah. I think we should talk to the Empty anyway. If we can get the angels on our side, we can have more firepower.”

“Can we even convince them?” Belphegor asks, still not removing his face from the pillow.

“Well,” Jack says, pulling his blankets up to get comfortable. “Michael’s gonna.”

He sees Adam nod as the young man yawns. “Yeah,” he says, “Michael’s gonna.” He sits up, crossing his legs and inclining his head downwards. 

“What are you doing?” Jack asks. 

“Praying to him,” Adam says, smiling. “Gotta make sure he knows we aren’t just forgetting him, right?”

-

"Hello, Jack," the Empty says. 

“Hello,” Jack says, shifting on his feet. Sam and Dean hadn’t been keen on him purposefully almost drowning himself in the bathtub so he could visit, but Belphegor had told them that the only way to get Jack to speak to the Empty was to put him in a state of near-death (so he could still return to the land of the living) and that they’d done this before, so here he is.

The Empty is wearing his face again, sitting on a high throne with its legs swung over one armrest, back leaning on the other. 

He’s sipping a juice pack. 

“Quite a stir you boys have made on Earth,” it says. “I could feel it way over here.”

“You could?” 

“Mm.” The Empty tosses the empty - heh - pack into the darkness. It disappears out of sight. Jack doesn’t know if it landed anywhere. “The entirety of Hell reigned in and brought under one command - it’s like seeing a rampaging animal suddenly be collared.”

A nervousness starts to build in Jack’s stomach. “Is that a bad thing?”

“If you let Hell remain Hell, no,” the Empty says. It snatches a wine glass of something orange and clearly synthetic out of nowhere. Kiddie pack orange juice. “If you don’t, this whole house of cards collapses.”

“We were that close?”

This is bad. This is really, really bad. It may have been pure luck that Michael and Belphegor had decided to not absorb Hell, but if they had made the wrong decision, everything would have gone to shit. 

“Yes,” The Empty says. “I imagine your archangel knew that.”

Michael’s never without a plan. Right. 

“Speaking of him, he’s missing in action, isn’t he?”

“You know about that?”

“Solar flares like you and Michael, you’re hard to miss when you’re around and when you’re not,” it says, finally swinging its legs to the front so that it’s sitting properly. It hunches over, resting its elbows on its knees as it stares down at Jack. “What are you planning to do now, Jack Kline?”

Jack thinks over his next words. 

“I need the angels back,” he says. 

The Empty raises an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“Well,” he says, “Maybe not all of them.”

“Hm.” The Empty leans back into its seat, taking a sip of its orange juice. “I already told you no.”

“But the universe is collapsing,” Jack says, insistent. “And we’re up against Chuck. We need as much manpower we can get.”

“And he’ll snap everyone right back in here at the first chance he gets.”

“But he’s weak. We have Hell - we can use their numbers to our advantage. If we had the angels - “ 

“The angels will not bow to any of you,” the Empty says. “You know that.”

Jack finds himself at a loss for words at that. 

“Say I agreed to resurrect the angels,” the Empty says. “What then? You have a coup d’état waiting to happen. There will be rebels. There will be those that side with their father. You can’t opt to only resurrect your allies if it’s numbers you want, because a good portion of Heaven weren’t your allies, they were your family’s enemies. I doubt they would answer to someone they will only perceive to be Lucifer’s son, even if you’ve distanced yourself from your grace relations, and I doubt they will listen to Michael if they see that he had deflected.”

When Jack doesn’t answer, the Empty presses, “What are you going to do, Jack?”

Michael can convince them. Michael has to convince them, because they can’t afford anything else, but even if he can, he’ll need time, which they don’t have if they’re going to perform every single part of their plan all at once. They don’t have anything like the crook to be able to control the entirety of Heaven at once either, so all it boils down to is everyone cooperating. 

But the Empty is right. All the angels operate on blind faith. They have to be able to find a way around this. They have to, at the very least, find a way to buy time and convince everyone they can convince to get on their side. 

The Empty is something that wants to make its moves when it knows it will be successful, someone who only wages war when victory is ensured - a picky stickler to foolproof plans. But considering what is at stake, Jack needs someone to shoot down their stupid plans so they can come up with better ones. Still, if only they can get it to cooperate -

Wait.

“Hey,” Jack says. 

“Yes?”

“If an angel visits any part of this universe, Purgatory or Earth or Hell - anything outside of Heaven - would that lead to the collapse of Heaven? Say, if they were one of the few angels still around?”

“No,” the Empty says. “Sure, the lights would go out in Heaven, with their numbers, but it won’t lead to a universal collapse. The universe won’t fold in on itself.”

“What’s the difference?”

“If it’s a universal collapse, that end of this universe just blinks out of existence, creates a void in reality, et cetera, et cetera.” The Empty waves a hand. “If their lights go out, Heaven just goes on the fritz. It still exists, but it’s just unable to function. It can still be restored.”

“Okay,” Jack says. “And if you remove a good number of angels from here, would that lead to a collapse?”

“If you remove enough,” the Empty says. “Especially with the state of our reality.”

Jack nods. “Okay. Can you throw down anyone at anywhere within this universe?”

“I’ve got a good throwing arm.” The Empty shrugs. “I’d say so.”

“Okay,” Jack says a third time, grinning. All he needs is the Empty’s cooperation. That’s the minimum. “Thanks for answering.”

The Empty smiles, amused. “Have you figured something out, Jack Kline?” 

“Maybe,” Jack says, shrugging back. “If I can promise that I have a way to convince the angels, will you help us?”

“If you convince me that you have a way to convince the angels, I will,” the Empty says. 

“Swear it,” Jack says, feeling brave. “Swear on - um - something.”

Belphegor swore on his wings. Jack’s not sure what Empties swear by, but there has to be something sacred enough to it to swear by. 

“Swear it?” The Empty asks.

“Yes.”

It hums, leaning forward again to rest its hands on the same cane Jack had seen the last time he was here, a cane it definitely wasn’t holding before but is now. It sets its chin on its hands, lazily. “Why should I?”

“Because you still exist within this universe,” Jack says. “And if it goes, so do you. And you like existing. You told me that.”

“Oh, so you do pay attention.”

“More than people give me credit for.” Jack grins. “Swear it.”

“You realize you are essentially making a deal with me,” the Empty says. “Your family does not have a good track record of making deals, Jack. Do you want to invite that misfortune?”

“This one’s to save the world,” Jack says. “I think - if it’s for the sake of something bigger than you are, something you want to fight for - it’s worth a few deals.”

“Pick a hill to die on,” the Empty says, more to itself. “You’ve got to be the most responsible toddler I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!”

“I swear it,” the Empty says, slowly sitting up straight, and Jack feels the floor under him ripple with power. “By my responsibility as guardian of the nothingness. I swear it, on the abyss that is all that remains of the state of existence before existence was brought into creation. I swear it, by the laws of the universe that keep all things in order and the laws of causation that my realm stands for. I swear it, by my pride as one the last remaining remnants of the Darkness in this universe.”

And then it slams the end of its cane on the floor. Jack hears a crackle of thunder, and nearly falls to his knees from the sheer power that suddenly sweeps across the Empty. Briefly, he sees flashes under the floor, but they go out before he can even blink.

He straightens, realizing his knees have buckled slightly. 

“There,” the Empty says. “Does that satisfy you, Jack Kline?”

“Yes,” Jack says. “That was a lot wordier than I thought it was going to be, though.”

“Oh, shut up. Get going, you little shit,” the Empty says. “When you have your plan, return.”

“When I have my plan,” Jack says. “Sam and Dean are going to tell you.”

“Oh?” The Empty sounds intrigued. “Interesting.”

“You can’t say no if the universe wants to survive that badly, right?” Jack asks, “Not when your job is essentially to keep it standing.”

“We’ll see,” it says, digs its cane into the floor, and then splashes him with the water that the floor sometimes is as it swings the end of the cane towards him. Jack doesn’t know how it works since the ground under him is still solid. “Now piss off.”

Jack laughs. “Thanks,” he says, waving a hand, and says goodbye just like he had last time. “See you around, then, old thing.”

“For all our sakes,” the Empty says. “I fucking hope not.”