Henry sat in the corner booth of a diner somewhere off the Ohio interstate, stirring a cup of lukewarm black coffee.
Past midnight, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Getting here had been a pain — the ride derailed by a demon-possessed driver, forcing him to hack through a detour of black-eyed roadkill just to cross state lines.
But that wasn't what was bothering him.
What the hell is that nasty feeling? Henry rubbed the back of his neck.
A heavy pressure hung in the air, his restored grace buzzing with cold static — like the pressure drop before a hurricane, but worse.
A tired waitress shuffled over and slid a plate of greasy eggs and hash browns onto the table. Henry picked up his fork, starving.
Before it touched the eggs, a blinding flash of white light erupted above his booth.
CRASH.
The table split under the sudden weight of two grown men dropping out of thin air. Plates, coffee, and ruined eggs exploded across the booth, splattering his jacket.
Henry froze, pissed off, staring at the tangle of leather and flannel groaning in the wreckage of his dinner.
"Dean? Sam?" His annoyance stalled for a second. "Why the hell are you popping out of thin air? Where have you two been?"
Dean groaned, rolling off a broken table leg, clutching his ribs, blinking up at Henry like he'd seen a ghost. "Henry? When'd you get out? We thought that portal ate you."
"Yeah, me too. I handled it," Henry said dryly, brushing ketchup off his sleeve. "Whatever. Let's eat, I'm starving." He picked up his surviving glass of water and drank.
Sam pushed himself out of the wreckage, face drained of color, looking around the diner wild-eyed before locking on Henry.
"I don't think we have time for that," Sam said, voice trembling. "Lucifer is out of his cage."
Henry choked on the water, spitting it across the ruined booth, coughing hard.
"What the fuck?!" His voice echoed over the buzzing lights. "When did that happen?! How?!"
The whole diner went silent. The waitress, the cook, the truck drivers at the counter, all staring at the shattered booth.
Henry wiped his mouth, glaring at the brothers as the weight of what Sam just said landed. The nasty feeling in the air wasn't a storm. It was the Devil.
"Right," Henry muttered, grabbing Dean by the collar and hauling him up. "Let's talk outside."
***
The cold night hit them the second the diner doors swung shut. Henry walked a few paces into the empty lot, stopped, exhaled, and crossed his arms.
"Alright. Lay it on me."
Dean didn't sugarcoat it.
Under the flickering neon of the diner sign, he laid out the whole disaster — the hospital, the hex bag, Ruby playing them from the start, Sam holding the gun, and the sickening twist that killing Lilith hadn't stopped the seals. It was the final one.
"Ha... hahah..."
A weak, hollow laugh came out of Henry. He stared at them for a second before his legs just gave out, dropping him onto the cold asphalt, face in his hands.
"Fuck it. I'm done," he muttered into his palms. "Absolutely done with this. Dean, Sam, I'm retiring."
In his head he was screaming. This whole time he thought he'd successfully steered the board — thought pulling Sam away from the demon blood had derailed Ruby's plan entirely. But she'd found a loophole.
She never needed a super-powered, demon-blood-junkie Sam to exorcise Lilith. She just needed the Winchesters to put a Colt bullet in her head. Method changed. Endgame stayed the same.
"Henry, get off the ground. Not exactly the time to sulk," Dean snapped, pacing. "The Devil's out!"
"I fucking know he's out, Dean!" Henry threw his hands up.
"But I'm tired! Do you have any idea what I've been doing? Days trapped in a sunless, demon-infested hellhole fighting for my life! I finally get out, order a plate of eggs, and you drop this on my lap! Can a man not get ten minutes?!"
The outburst echoed across the empty lot.
Sam, silent since they'd stepped outside, finally moved forward, looking wrecked, the weight of it crushing his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Henry," he said, barely above a whisper. "This is my fault. I should never have trusted that demon."
Henry looked up. He remembered warning Sam explicitly to shoot Ruby on sight if she ever showed up again. And yet, here they were. But seeing the devastation on Sam's face, the anger drained out of him fast.
He sighed and pushed himself up off the pavement, dusting off his jeans.
"Sam, look at me. It's not your fault. You thought you were pulling the trigger on the demon breaking the seals. You thought you were saving the world. How was anyone supposed to know she was the final seal?"
Henry kept his face straight, swallowing the bitter irony. He'd known.
He'd known the lore going in. But the universe had course-corrected anyway, and right now pointing fingers wasn't going to put the Devil back in the box.
"So," Dean said, looking between them. "Lucifer's free. What's our next move?"
*****
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