The Wheels On The Bus Chapter 8

Patreon might flag this just because of the word 'bingo' lmao.

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Cas tells them they can stay in the school for the night, if they want to, and Michael wants to keep a close eye on the situation, and if there’s anyone in their little team they can actually trust to be able to plan his way out of an apocalypse, it’s Michael, so they do. They get to keep the break room as their quarters for the night, so they’ve pushed the table and the chairs aside to make more room for them on the floor.

Not that they needed to sleep, but Adam declared having mattresses on the floor would be a lot more comfortable as they can just sit anywhere, so they made more space.

Jack looks over at what Belphegor is writing down on a piece of cardstock he’d found in one of the desks. They’re both perched on the table - Jack sitting while Belphegor’s on his stomach and kicking his legs behind him like he’s in a teen movie, and he’s sketching out. 

“What are you doing with that?” Jack asks.

“Apocalypse bingo,” Belphegor says. “I’m gonna list out a couple of scenarios I think are going to happen here - “ He finishes the grid right as he says that with a flick of his wrist, and then taps the other end of the pen on the squares. “ - and then when something happens, I mark it off. The top here is gonna have B-I-N-G-O written and I have to get five in a row.”

“And then?”

“I win.”

“But what do you win? You’re making the game yourself,” Jack says.

“The high of satisfaction,” Belphegor says. “It’s very addicting.”

Jack looks up as the door opens, and Adam and Michael step in, carrying as many pillows and mattresses they can carry in their arms. 

“What’s he doing?” Adam asks without even bothering to actually look their way.

“Apocalypse bingo,” Jack says.

“Not everything I do is suspicious, Milligan,” Belphegor says.

“I know, I was just checking to see if you were preparing to prank any of the civilians here,” Adam says, kicking some of the mattresses further into the room before he starts laying them out side by side, trying to cover the floor end-to-end while Michael waits patiently and holds onto the pillows. 

“I mean, I wasn’t going to,” Belphegor says. “If I do now, it’s your fault for putting the idea in my head.”

“Sam and Dean won’t buy it,” Adam says. “Apocalypse bingo? Also, Michael, you can set the pillows down.”

Michael walks over to the mattresses that have been laid down so he can put drop the pillows on them.

“I feel like it’d be fun,” Belphegor says. “Plus, I don’t know what’s gonna happen. These are just guesses.”

“Huh,” Adam says, lining up the last mattress by the wall. They need about four more to cover the rest of the floor. “That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“A little tasteless,” Michael says. 

“I mean, it’s a little humor to spice up a universal breakdown,” Belphegor says, lifting a shoulder. 

They all look at him for a second. 

“You have a point,” Adam says.

“You wanna join in?” Belphegor asks, waving his card.

“I’ll make my own card. We’ll see who gets a bingo first,” Adam says.

“Ooh, nice. Variety and a contest. Mike?”

“Do not call me that,” Michael says. “But yes, I’m open to the idea.”

“Nice. Jack?”

“I don’t know what I’d write down,” he says. “Do I just copy you guys?”

“If you think something we wrote is gonna happen, then sure, I’d let you copy some off mine,” Adam says. “Just write in what you think’s gonna happen. Go ridiculous with it if you think it’s gonna be ridiculous.”

“Okay,” Jack says. “You need more mattresses.”

“Yeah, we do. Don’t destroy anything while we’re gone. Come on, Michael.” Adam gets up, heading for the door. Michael follows after him. 

“We don’t - and they’re gone.” Belphegor lets out an exaggeratedly loud sigh.

Jack uncurls his legs from where he’s sitting criss-cross, letting them hang on the edge of the table so he can kick them back and forth. Belphegor laughs.

“We’re like metronomes,” he says. 

“I don’t know what that is,” Jack says.

“It counts beats for music,” Belphegor says, and waves a hand. “I’m gonna ask you something, is that okay?”

“Since when did you ask that sort of question?” Jack asks, a little amused. 

“Since now. I’ve given you a head’s up, so here’s the shot,” Belphegor says, but then pauses. Finally, he says. “You okay with closing the rifts if it comes down to it?”

“I volunteered that plan the first time, remember?” jack says, “I’m fine with it.”

“It could be dangerous,” Belphegor says.

“I’m dangerous,” Jack says.

“That means squat, haven’t you ever heard that thing about the killing thing and the power to kill? I’m dangerous too and I’d book it if I was in your position,” Belphegor says. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Bet.”

“You like this rock, remember? You said it yourself,” Jack says. “And there’s far too many demons that would kill you.”

“But then I’d be dead either way, right?” Belphegor asks. He folds his arms to rest his chin on them. “Either by demons or the universe just dying or Chuck himself smiting me. No winning on that part.”

“What are you talking about? There’s a chance of winning,” Jack says. “That’s why we’re stopping this apocalypse.”

“Like, a ten percent chance maybe. Even less is more likely, actually,” Belphegor says. “And it’s hinged on Chuck’s weakness, only we don’t know how weak he is and we don’t know what aces he has up his sleeves.”

Jack is quiet for a little while. He turns away, after a moment, staring out at the room. “You sound like Sam and Dean.”

Belphegor splutters.

“That - “ he starts, already pushing himself up into a sitting position “ - that, of all the things I have been called, is the most insulting thing anyone has ever told me, take it back.”

Jack blinks. “I thought you liked Sam and Dean.”

“No, I am absolutely thrilled by how they stumble around like two halves of a whole idiot. There is a difference,” Belphegor says, “Besides, their lives suck.”

“I...guess,” Jack says, the way people say things just so they can move right along. “But like, you sound stressed, I guess.”

“Ah, well, that’s the state of a lot of people, not just Sam and Dean,” Belphegor says. “Of course I’m stressed, we’re going against the guy who made all of this - “ he waves his hand around to indicate the room. “ - possible.”

“I think we’d win easily if we fought construction workers, Bel.”

Belphegor laughs again, loud. “Okay, we’re rubbing off on you too much, kid, your dads aren’t gonna be happy,” he says, wiping his eyes a little. He sobers after a few minutes. “But for real, though. If Chuck thinks he should step in at any time at all, you could die.”

“The Empty can just send me back.”

“What if Chuck makes it so that that’s impossible?’

Jack pauses. 

“Think about it. In the beginning, there was the Darkness and the Light. And then the Light made stuff because he was bored,” Belphegor says. “I don’t know shit about the whole Death reaping Chuck eventually thing, but you have to admit that if in the beginning there was only the Darkness and the Light then everything else is just a concept that exists because the Light willed it to be so and he can just clear the board at any given moment.” 

“Yeah…” Jack trails off. “That is a way to look at it.”

“It’s a story, and yeah, the universe and the narrative has to have rules, but if the writer says fuck it - “ Belphegor shrugs. “What can you do?”

Jack thinks about it, for a moment, looking down at the floor. “I think,” he says, eventually, after a good ten minutes, “I think I’ll give it a shot anyway?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Better to have tried than not at all, right?”

“Probably,” Belphegor says. “I wouldn’t really know.”

Jack laughs this time. “Maybe one day.”

“Doubt it,” Belphegor says, chuckling to himself. 

The clock on the wall ticks away, the only sound in the otherwise quiet room as they let their conversation settle.

“Hey,” Jack says.

“Hm?”

“Adam and Michael are taking too long, don’t you think?” he asks. 

Belphegor makes a face at first, and then he frowns in suspicion, turning towards the door. 

In the distance, gunshots.

“Well, there it is,” Belphegor says, taking his pen and marking off a box on his BINGO card. “Pep talk interrupted by deadly situation. Here - “ 

Jack catches the pen right before it nearly smacks his face as Belphegor tosses it to him.

“Get some cardstock for yourself and the others and start making your bingo cards if you wanna catch up,” Belphegor says, “I’m already one box ahead.”

-

Michael’s got four rolled up mattresses in his arms when he senses it. Malevolent, bitter energy, lurking just beyond the premises. 

He frowns. 

“Something wrong?” Adam asks. Ah, well, he’s stopped in his tracks in the hallway too.

“Vengeful spirits,” Michael says. 

“Hm, bad,” Adam says. “Where?”

“Not too sure, I know it’s far away from the school,” he says, and then as if the universe is determined to one-up him, he suddenly feels the energy surging towards them.

Fast.

“Nevermind,” he says. “They’re headed this way. Probably just figured out they were outside the barrier and could make their way here.”

“Shit,” Adam says. “Let’s go find Sam and Dean.”

Michael lets out a low pulse of grace to search for their souls, quickly finding them in a room across the building. Not wanting to alarm any hunters or civilians they might be with, he instead just motions down the hallway with a nod of his head and starts walking, Adam following suit behind him, nevermind their cargo.

They find the brothers in an office, which is locked when Adam tries to turn the knob, but finds itself opening when he pushes at it with a bit of the borrowed grace that’s been embedded in his soul. 

“Hey,” Adam says, poking his head in. Michael can practically hear the surprise in the sudden pause that takes the room. Adam pushes the door back a little so Michael can see inside. Sure enough, Sam and Dean appear to be in a meeting with their hunters, and they’re all confusedly staring at them.

“You have an emergency,” Michael says, getting straight to the point. “There’s ghosts on the way here.”

“Shit,” Sam says. 

“That’s what I said,” Adam says.

“How many?” Dean asks. 

Michael spreads out his awareness. “Fifteen, around 50 meters from here,” he says. “Oh, wait. Make that twenty three. A couple just joined in. They’re coming in fast, by the way. They’re at forty two meters now, and dwindling.”

“Shit - alright, everyone get to work,” Dean says. “Sam, get the civilians in the gym. I’ll deal with everyone stationed outside. Make a second barricade inside the school in case something gets past us. ”

Sam nods, as Dean motions for a few other hunters to follow him. Michael and Adam step aside to let them through. While Dean’s focused on getting to where the Impala is to get their weapons, the others give them suspicious looks that say that if the Winchesters didn’t seem to implicitly trust them, they’d be strapped to a chair with a headlight above them right now. 

“Who’re these guys?” someone from inside the room asks, and they turn their attention inside again.

“Uh, that’s Adam. He’s our little brother,” Sam says. 

Adam waves a hand, as much as he can with the pillows he’s holding. “Sup.”

“You have a little brother?” The hunter turns to Sam, disbelieving.

“I thought there were only two of you,” someone else mutters.

“Yeah, it’s a long story,” Sam says, taking out his phone. “He was raised without knowing the family business for a while.”

“How the fuck,” the first one says.

“That’s Michael,” Sam says - looking up for a moment to motion to him - plowing through and clearly not really wanting to explain, which was understandable given the urgency of their current situation. He’s typing out something.

Michael nods his greeting.

“Is he like, psychic or something?” a third hunter, looking at Michael warily, asks.

“Not specifically,” Adam says, with a wry grin that earns him a flat look from Sam. He laughs it off.

“Nineteen meters, Sam,” Michael says.

“Right,” Sam says.“Get your guns from storage and pass it to the others stationed inside - I’m giving them a heads up. Adam, Michael.”

“Wait, wait, wait, we’re in this?” Adam asks.

“You are now. Find Cas. Get the civilians to the gym,” Sam says, not looking up as he’s still typing out a text. 

“Where is Cas?” Adam asks. 

Michael’s already searching for him. “Infirmary.”

“Oh, thanks,” Adam says. “What do we say to everyone, then?”

“Make something up,” Sam says, finally hitting the send button. He nods to the other hunters and they head for the door. “Take Jack and Bel with you. You’re in charge of the civilians.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Adam says, jokingly.

“I know,” Sam says, but he’s smiling slightly as he puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. It’s the most brotherly thing he’s ever done so far since Adam’s gotten topside, Michael notes, but Adam’s not pushing him away; probably because his hands are full, but he’s not telling him to stop touching him either. Maybe it’s a good thing. “You’ll handle it.”

Neither he nor Adam miss how Sam discreetly glances to Michael.

“Is that allowed?’ Adam asks, lowering his voice. None of them are sure how anyone will take to knowing there’s an archangel around, much less Michael, when the last time the Winchesters let word out of an Archangel Michael being topside, it was when Sam was looking for Dean who was being possessed by him.

“If it comes down to it,” Sam says. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, it never ends well when one of you says that,” Adam says, snickering.

Sam smacks his shoulder hard before he leaves, taking the other hunters with him. Adam laughs as his knees buckle a little from the force. 

“You fucking moose,” Adam calls out, “Good luck, hell knows you need it.”

“Thanks,” Sam says. 

Both of them watch the hunters go, for a minute.

“Shit,” Adam says,  “I had a brotherly moment.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Michael says.

“Shouldn’t be,” Adam says. “But there’s just that tiny, tiny bit of resentment for being literally left in hell for years, you know? Like, I don’t hate them, but there’s that.”

“Ah, well,” Michael says, Castiel shoving his own memories of his father being a fucking douchebag at him coming to mind. To think he’d ever thought to side with the man, and now all his direct siblings were dead and the last thing they’d ever known of him was that he was a cold, distant soldier who was dead set on being the good son even if it meant casting his own brother into a place of torture. Dick. “At your own pace.”

“Yeah, life’s like that sometimes. What can you do?” Adam shrugs. “Come on, let’s go find the wondertwins before Belphegor burns something down in a panic.”