The final chapter in this arc and the deal is named for the song of the same name, "The Howling" by Within Temptation. A must listen. Many notes to follow.

Part 7: The Howling

A year ago Dean couldn't think of his waning time in terms of days. He saw it as just time. Not as ticks on a calendar, not weeks or even months. Just time. It became days only when there were less than seven of them, mostly because despite everyone's careful treading around the subject, they just kept mentioning it. It was always 'days' after that. Six days. Five days. Four. They were on two now, two, and in just a few hours it would be down to one. Then it wouldn't be days at all but hours, mere hours until Malak or the hellhounds, maybe both, would come for him.

Dean stopped feeling afraid, stopped feeling anxious and overcome a long time ago. He couldn't exactly sit down and cry over this. He wouldn't. Sometimes bad shit just happened, and bad shit loved to happen to him.

They were still in Prior Lake, well Shakopee, still staying at the casino hotel. They hadn't seen Meagan or Miriam, which was probably good for the girls' sakes. They had zero leads but somehow Dean knew Lilith had to be close. The way she had taunted him made it too obvious that she must be just out of reach, just inches or feet or blocks away from them. She wanted him to know that he had a chance because that made it so much worse that they couldn't figure out where she was.

There just weren't enough unexplainable things happening in the small towns around them, they had known that when they researched to find out more about the demon boys. But if Lilith was 'playing' anywhere in Shakopee, Prior Lake, or Savage, then there had to be something for them to find.

Days of searching, days gone and lost, had handed them nothing but strained eyes from computer screens and strained voices from talking to civilians who didn't have anything new to tell them. Everyone was constantly doing something. Dean supposed he was glad for the extra help, for Ellen and Bobby, and Jo and Sarah too, even Shiarra who kept calling and Wally who was ready to sit on Dean's lap at any time and be just a simple, soothing presence made it all more bearable.

But it wasn't enough. And all of them knew it.

Jo passed Dean on the way out, going for provisions since they kept forgetting to actually eat something. She smiled tightly, clutched his arm for a moment. He almost wanted to push her away. He couldn't stand to see any of them pitying him like that, but they did. He knew they did.

Dean had been out talking to some of the elementary school teachers, still using the alias of Detective Stokes since the badge was set and he knew Meagan and Miriam wouldn't be turning him in. None of the teachers he talked to seemed to notice anything strange about any of their female students though. And none of the classroom pictures Dean looked at held the image of the girl who had talked to him.

Sam and Sarah were the only ones in the larger room when he went inside. They had the same two that connected, the connector door almost always propped open since they slept only when they had to. There was music playing softly in the background, a radio on in the other room. Sam and Sarah didn't notice that he had come in, too absorbed in whatever it was they were looking at on Sam's laptop. Dean shed his suit coat and loosened his tie, watching Sam and Sarah talk hushed. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he knew the conversation was about him.

Something broke in Sam's eyes, his brow furrowing like he might cry. Sarah said something to him so softly that her lips barely moved, a hand reaching up to touch his face, smooth back his hair. When she smiled at Sam she made Dean think of Jessica. Sarah was so different from Jessica and not just because her hair was dark and her figure more womanly and curved, but because she could survive this. She really could, Dean knew it. She could be something Jessica never could have—a bridge between two lives. A bridge that won't burn.

They kissed, no one initiating it just equally timed movement that connected them. The kiss was soft, gently moving, each of them needing to communicate some shared emotion that could only pass between them through skin. Dean could understand that. He felt that need every time he looked at Sasha.

A hand on Dean's shoulder, gentle from behind where someone else had come through the door, didn't even startle him. He knew his companions so well that he could recognize each of them merely by the sound of their footsteps and breathing. "Hey, Bobby," Dean managed, not realizing until he tried to speak that his voice was caught in his throat somewhere.

"You alright, son?"

"That a trick question?" Dean tried to grin. He turned to look at his friend, his mentor, his surrogate uncle and saw a stern frown. "Sorry," Dean amended, "No leads again. Sure it's the same all around or my phone would be going off the hook. Bad expression since it's a cell phone," he chuckled.

Bobby's hand on Dean's shoulder squeezed with reassurance. Maybe his look wasn't pity but there was always remorse. Bobby understood loss as well as anyone; he couldn't bear to lose someone else, just like Dean couldn't if one of the others was the one headed for Hell instead of him.

"You know it's…funny," Dean strained to keep his smile, "Keep thinking I either want to spend as much time as I can in the car…or head to your place. Pretty much the only homes I know." Dean saw Bobby's brow furrow with unspoken pain. He had to swallow before saying, "Aren't you s'possed to wish for that kinda stuff when you're knocking on death's door? Familiarity. Or something." He shrugged, not meaning to shrug Bobby off too but he couldn't help it.

Then Bobby's expression was all sternness again. He patted Dean's shoulder hard. "None a that 'sorry for myself', fatalistic crap on my watch, ya hear? Way I figure it, we'll be hitting on something any time now. Won't accept anything different." He patted Dean's shoulder again and then headed for Sam and Sarah. Bobby had been checking for missing children's reports. Guess he didn't find any.

Dean was ready to head into the other room, change, maybe take a shower, when Sasha came through the connecting door. It used to be that suddenly seeing the incubus after being away from him lit Dean up, made all the rest of the world seem brighter for at least a moment. But these days, so close to not just death's but Hell's door, Dean saw horrible things when he looked at the people he loved—their faces twisted. It came and went, usually caught him by surprise, but it was always worst on Sasha.

The incubus turned to see him still close to the door leading out. Sasha probably smiled but Dean couldn't see it because he was seeing a corpse's face instead, howling.

The horror shifted back to being just Sasha, who was smiling after all but sadly. Dean shook himself back to awareness. "Hey," he said, approaching where Sasha was poised between rooms, "Fall asleep on the job?" he teased, batting at Sasha's too red hair that was a little mused for a change.

"Actually…I did," Sasha admitted, "Fell asleep over weather reports. Sorta, ya know…wrecked…lately."

Damn it. There were tears in Sasha's eyes after two sentences. The incubus was by far the worst at keeping his emotions in check. He didn't look at Dean with pity either. His look was fear. Fear of losing something he had waited so long for and couldn't bear to see taken away. "Hey," Dean grinned, elbowing Sasha in the side as he came up next to him, "Lovebirds got interrupted. Bet I can imagine the conversation." Dean couldn't hear what Sam, Sarah, and Bobby were talking about but he put on his most over the top, deep-voiced Bobby impression, and said, "Damn it, Sam, we ain't got time for you to be hitting that."

Sasha immediately snickered.

"But, Bobby, I…" Dean trailed in the whiney voice he always reserved for Sam, "No, Bobby," he switched to high and feminine for Sarah, "It's just that Sam has reached a certain age and has all these new urges and hair growth, and I was lending a helping hand," then back to Bobby, "Well if you want any more of that kinda help, Sam, I think you're gonna need to buy me a beer first."

That did it. As soon as Sasha's stifled chuckle burst into full on laughter, enough that even the mocked Sam, Sarah and Bobby all looked over at them, Dean knew he had won. At least for a little while.

Pleased with himself, Dean grinned at the others, waved like nothing had happened, then swiftly yanked Sasha along with him into the other room. The redhead was still laughing as they stumbled over the carpet and Dean quietly shut the connecting door behind them.

Sasha's face—laugh lines that would never be wrinkles, his bright blue eyes squinting in merriment, teeth flashing white and the bit of pink tongue behind them—Dean had every smooth bit of skin, every curve of Sasha's jaw, his nose, all of it memorized. He never used to pay much attention to the idiosyncrasies of other men's faces, even when he was sizing up competition. He never really did it with women either. He looked, recognized 'pretty' and 'hot' and 'sexy', but he never really saw the little things that made those women beautiful the way he saw how Sasha was beautiful.

Well if that wasn't the sappiest internal monologue he had ever had to remind himself that yes, he had fallen in love with a man, with an incubus, and he had no regrets about that whatsoever, then Dean really didn't want to know how he could get sappier.

"Come here for a minute," Dean said, leaning back against the closed door and just watching Sasha recover from his laughter. He felt like he hadn't held or really touched Sasha in weeks. Maybe he hadn't. Time wasn't very cooperative with him lately.

There was a twinkle in Sasha's eyes, a quirk of his mouth as he went silent and returned Dean's stare. "I know that look," he said, "Everyone's researching, Dean, and Ellen and Jo will be back—"

"Who cares," Dean shushed him. He pushed off the door and walked right into Sasha's space, both hands reaching up to pull the redhead down into a kiss.

The immediate connection, lips pressed tight, tongue seeking with ravenous, possessive strokes, it was all heat. Even though it was Spring, nearly May, Dean craved the warmth Sasha gave off.

His hands slid from Sasha's face, down the front of his chest, and settled on his waistline where Dean could slip his fingers into the open space between Sasha's T-shirt and jeans.

"Dean…" Sasha growled in that voice that said he was already giving in, "They'll hear us." The walls weren't exactly thick between the two rooms, that was true.

"So turn up the radio," Dean suggested hotly against his lover's lips. Some unknown song was still playing softly in the background.

Sasha grinned again, backed up a step as if he meant to obey and go turn up the volume, but then his smile faded. "Dean…"

"Don't even start," Dean cut him off, "No evasion bullshit just coz you think I'm looking for a…a 'goodbye fuck' or whatever. I'm going out of my mind here, baby, I just want you." He reached up to Sasha's face again, cupping a soft cheek that he had never felt the roughness of stubble on. He knew he wouldn't mind if he ever did though.

Blue eyes fluttered closed as Sasha leaned into his touch. "I wasn't going to evade you, Dean. I just…" his breath hitched and he swallowed it down thickly, "I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"Course I know that," Dean whispered back, "You're not very subtle."

How long had it been since they first kissed in that alleyway, since they first made love on Bobby's floor, since Dean first said those insane words while they were waiting for Sam in the Impala? It didn't matter. Dean didn't want to recount their experiences in units of time, only with memory, with scenes played out in his head as he vividly recollected.

Those brilliant blue eyes opened and it was Sasha who bent his head to kiss Dean, softer, tenderer than before with only the lightest flicks of his tongue along Dean's lips. He turned away but only to move to the radio finally and turn up the volume, flipping through stations to settle on something with a stronger beat.

"Come here," Sasha smiled back at him, motioning Dean over with a tilt of his head.

Dean didn't need to be asked twice; the incubus' come-hither look made a puddle of him every time.

He hadn't been completely honest when he told Bobby that the only homes he knew were the Impala and a scrap yard in South Dakota. Anywhere Sammy was, that was home too. And this past year anywhere Dean found his incubus was downright domestic. The djinn's dreamworld didn't have anything on Sasha Kelly.

They connected again like the polar ends of a magnet, pulled together by sheer physics. Dean wanted to touch Sasha everywhere, memorize him all over again. He needed this to hold onto, something strong that Malak would never be able to take away from him.

Carefully, Sasha began to move them as they continued to kiss more and more deeply and sought intimate holds with their hands, shifting their bodies towards the bed. He soon pushed Dean onto the rumpled sheets that no one had bothered to fix that morning and climbed right on top of the bed with him.

They situated and scooted around and strained, trying to never lose where their lips touched and their hands roamed. Dean almost laughed to think that something very much not human was hovering over him right now and with less than honorable intent. Once upon a time that would have been one of his worst nightmares come to life.

"I've wanted to try this again ever since…" Sasha lowered his head and Dean swore he saw the incubus blush, "Ever since we tried it the first time. If…ya know…you still want me like this." Sasha sat back on Dean's hips, pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it away. What he meant by 'this' revealed itself in familiar ripples over his body until Dean was looking at longer red hair, red eyes, horns, and white and black skin. Sasha grinned fangs, his wings appearing on his back and flaring out to their full breadth above them.

Now Dean understood why Sasha had taken off the T-shirt first. He smiled up at his incubus. "Never been a doubt I want you every way I can have you," he said, running his hands up the smooth marble white of Sasha's chest, right up to the only black tattoo Sasha hadn't been born with and the scar that lay beneath it, "The real you is my favorite kink." Especially since Sasha wasn't larger and more menacing like he had been in the cave. Dean preferred the incubus like this—definitely.

Much as Sasha smiled wider to hear Dean say all that, there was that sadness again that passed into his red eyes, sadness Dean recognized and could anticipate even before the redhead tried again with a somber, "Dean…"

"Take me however you want me," he said before Sasha could say anything else. Dean arched up enough to playfully grab Sasha by the horns and tugged. "But shut up about it, huh?" With a wink and a few other things spoken silently that could only find a vocabulary with his eyes, Dean tugged again, pulling Sasha by his horns until the incubus was lying on top of him properly.

The song on the radio had changed again, Dean didn't know when, but because it was loud and so near their heads, he felt the music vibrate through him as they kissed and Sasha's claws ran slipped up beneath his shirt to remove it, popping away the buttons one by one.

We've been seeing what you wanted,
Got us cornered right now

Dean knew he was hot, praised Dad and Mom and the genetic lottery for it too, but the incubus that loved him and was so strangely erotic when he looked like a Beast had always been the real Beauty in their relationship. Dean never doubted that.

Falling asleep from our vanity
May cost us our lives

His shirt was gone, destroyed with all the buttons lost, but they could always buy a new one to go with his suits. Sasha left the loosened tie, however, and went straight for Dean's dark grey slacks.

I hear them getting closer
Their howls are sending chills down my spine

Gripping that long red hair with firm insistency, he kept Sasha close so he could run his tongue over the curves of those slightly pointed ears. He wriggled out of his pants.

And time is running out now,
They're coming down the hills from behind

There was still the matter of Dean's shorts, but Sasha tore them away so swiftly Dean barely noticed the absence until denim was pressing against his quickly heating flesh. He arched up. Just seeing Sasha like that, full incubus and so damn gorgeous, Dean wanted to be enveloped completely by wings and body and claws. He might have mumbled that aloud because Sasha smirked, showing the glint of fangs again, and sat back to better undo his own jeans.

After a minute of realizing that claws were not exactly conducive to unhooking small buttons or zippers, Dean sat up to offer Sasha a human hand, smirking the entire time.

When we start killing
It's all coming down right now
From the nightmare we've created
I want to be awakened somehow
(Wanna be awakened right now)

Sasha's jeans were undone but the smile slipped from Dean's face. He turned to look at the radio. If there was a God then he had the cruelest sense of humor.

When we start killing
It all will be falling down
From the Hell that we're in
All we are is fading away…

A gentle clawed hand on Dean's face pulled him back to the matter at hand, Sasha pushing Dean down into the mattress again as he laid his larger body on top of him and kicked his jeans and shorts to the floor.

The feel of Sasha all over him, touching him skin to skin the full length of their bodies had Dean shivering. He could feel the roughness of Sasha's clawed feet, feel Sasha's heat twitching between their thighs. The kiss this time was fierce and Dean could feel that familiar prick on his lips, on his tongue, reminding him that he was the only person who would ever know these sensations with Sasha. This was theirs—only theirs.

I feel them getting closer
Their howls are sending chills down my spine

And time is running out now
They're coming down the hills from behind

Dean trembled as Sasha's teeth and tongue marked his chest and lower, claws gripping his hips where they nicked the skin not enough to bleed but enough to claim. Dean wanted to be covered in such marks, deep enough to mark his soul too. The way Sasha held him, wrapped him in his arms and held on, kissing Dean's neck, biting just slightly, it burned him with such marvelous heat that he gasped up towards the ceiling.

He touched Sasha with equal fervor, found the soft white skin of Sasha's chest and thighs and those wings he loved that were the deepest black. The second Dean had the opportunity, he arched up and licked the tendon along the outside edge of one of those wings, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

This time it was Sasha who trembled. His eyes were glowing brightly as he held Dean, sitting up to merely look at him for a moment. Dean almost would have felt exposed under such scrutiny but he knew Sasha was trying to memorize everything just like he was.

Grinning more deviously, Sasha spread Dean out beneath him and carefully bent Dean's legs up for better access. He bent his head down between them then and licked one long strip up Dean's length. "You want me to stay like this?" he asked in that growly, husky voice.

"Ngnnn…" Dean moaned incoherently before finding his voice, "Oh yeah. You're so fucking hot like that, baby."

A pink tongue darted out to lick over Sasha's lips and fangs. "Well then…you're gonna have to help things along. I don't think it would be very nice of me to use these." He held up both clawed hands, glancing down between Dean's legs again with a poignant raise of an eyebrow.

Dean had to smirk. "Kinky bastard," he said. He could do that. The angle was awkward but he was limber and flexible enough to hoist his hips off the mattress and reach down with less pain-inducing human fingers to prepare him for his incubus.

Last time they tried this it had been Sasha with his feet in the air—clawed feet too. Dean didn't really have a preference. That whole 'no sex with an incubus is bad sex' thing was all true. But right now he was sort of glad to have Sasha in this position.

He thought maybe the redhead would be really kinky about things and watch with rapt attention. The incubus did snatch up his fingers and suck on them a few minutes to help things along. But then he slithered up beside Dean, fitting in along his body maybe a little awkwardly since one wing had to sneak around Dean against the headboard. He pressed as tight as he could to Dean's body, propped on his side while Dean remained flat on his back, the heavy weight of Sasha twitching against Dean's hip with promise.

"Now you're just teasing me," Dean grunted. It was strange preparing himself. He liked it better when Sasha's fingers stretched him—he loved Sasha's fingers, everything about the guy really—but the way the redhead was looking at him right now had his pulse racing.

"Oh…so you want me to tease you?" Sasha grinned.

It was Dean's right hand that was currently locked around him and a little…busy at the moment, so he sort of forgot he had another hand that might interfere if it wanted when the incubus first put the sharp tips of his claws to Dean's skin and started tracing invisible designs. Dean decided not to interfere, however. The touch of Sasha's claws had to be so gentle in order not to cut him, gentle enough that Dean felt a shiver run through him every few moments. When those claws traced over a nipple he choked back a cry and his hips bucked up from the bed.

Then he did cry out because moving like that pushed his fingers in deeper than he expected. He hit that perfect bundle of nerves and shuddered against Sasha. The music was still loud enough that he hoped no one had heard him yelp.

"You're killing me," he writhed since Sasha wasn't letting up with the slow, tortuous trailing of claws, down his thigh now and low across his hips, "Fucking…god damn…" he shifted in vain.

Sasha was so hard now against him that Dean wasn't surprised when the incubus crawled on top of him, forcing him to remove his fingers and better position himself with so much extra weight suddenly on top of him. How the glamours encompassed weight Dean didn't quite understand, but when Sasha's wings were out and visible, the incubus had to weigh at least an extra fifty. Being aware of this, however, Sasha quickly adjusted so that his knees were on either side of Dean and that weight fell mostly onto the bed.

The incubus ran the palms of his hands up Dean's sides, the tips of his claws barely touching him, and bent down to kiss Dean hungrily. There were the fangs again, pressing on Dean's lips and tickling his tongue. Sasha shifted down, his hands following until claws gripped Dean's hips and the tip of Sasha, hot and weeping, pushed on Dean's entrance.

Almost instantly, Dean's head was pressing back into the pillow beneath him, his body arching up as Sasha thrust down. It was such a common thing for both of them—being together this way—that it was easy, painless, all the right kinds of tight and heated.

Dean's knees were bent and the rest of him felt a little squished, but it was good, so good, and he just wanted Sasha to press in further or move or something. But the incubus pulled instead, hands still on Dean's hips he pulled on him effortlessly and lifted Dean off the bed. Dean settled in Sasha's lap with a gasp, reminded of that time they had their morning sex-capades. It was feel-it-in-your gut deep, and with Dean lifted he could look down at Sasha, at those curling black horns, the perfect face, the grin, all of it so monstrous and beautiful. Dean couldn't figure for the life of him sometimes how he had ended up here, but damn was happy to call it home.

Those leathery and yet still amazingly soft wings cocooned around them, Sasha on his knees, Dean more or less sitting and happily impaled. And they rocked. Slow and simple, they rocked, with Dean clinging to Sasha's shoulders `s, head thrown back, and…Jesus. Sasha kissed Dean's neck, sucked and gnawed teasingly where he hadn't been able to reach before. There were no thrusts, no harsh pulls, just rocking, Sasha pressing in deeper every time so that Dean could feel heat pooling steadily but held at bay right on the brink.

Then he felt it. Like something blossoming from the connection of their bodies, suddenly there was the circuit, coiling from inside of him and up through his limbs right to the tips of his fingers. He was pretty sure he couldn't feel his feet. A rush of the circuit, so potent like that, always got the better of him.

And that was when Dean realized how much he would miss this. Of course he would. And not just the mind-blowing sex, though he would definitely miss that for its own sake, but that perfect echoed feeling reminding him every time, even when he doubted he deserved it that he was loved.

Dean was brought back to rapture, back to their raw passion as Sasha's rocking grew more fervent. He held Dean at the waist with claws—claws—that somehow never hurt him more than he could handle. Dean grabbed for Sasha's face, looked deeply into those heavy-lidded eyes as Sasha rocked again. Again. Again. Trembling deeply, Dean had to keep hold of Sasha's cheeks, fingers up underneath the curl of horns, for him to be steady enough for a kiss.

They were wrapped up in the circuit as well as Sasha's wings, and somehow they found a rhythm that lasted and built and remained strong throughout several more songs on the radio. Every last one of them reminded Dean that his days would soon be nothing more than hours.

Later, when they were spent and sticky, too tangled in each other to care about the mess, Sasha didn't change out of his natural, true form. He held Dean with every large as life part of him. Casually, Dean trailed his fingertips over a wing that was half-draped over his body. Songs kept playing and they didn't say anything, didn't move. But when Sasha was ready to speak Dean felt it coming.

"Dean…" the incubus tried for the third time tonight.

"Don't," Dean said, so soft any normal human probably wouldn't have heard him. He looked up from watching his tan fingers touching that strange but wonderful black skin. Red eyes met his, red on white with slits like a cat's and so brilliant. "No goodbyes," he said.

Sasha's answering expression was hurt at first, maybe even angry, but he didn't push.

"You're such a girl," Dean had to lighten the mood, "No wonder it was never weird to love you."

A barked laugh left Sasha in mock offence. He pounced at Dean, claws and all to tackle him hard into the mattress. Dean was already flat on the mattress anyway so it basically meant putting all that extra incubus weight down on him. Dean feigned struggling, but when claws slipped up his stomach and across his ribs he flinched at that teasing tickle.

Laughter came again as Dean squirmed; Sasha so did love making him squirm.

The novelty wore off eventually, sound fading into silence again other than the radio, and it was just Sasha leaning over Dean, looking at him with heat and breath between them. He bent to kiss Dean gently. "No goodbyes," he promised, much as it pained him. That was the way it had to be.

Dean Winchester didn't do goodbyes.

The rest of the evening went as most recent ones had. No one really ate, no one really slept, but eventually enough of them had passed out that someone shut off the lights.

Dean woke up with his face smushed on top of Sasha's keyboard. The incubus was in bed a few feet away, but only because Dean had forced him there. At some point Sarah and Jo had collapsed on the other bed with their clothes all on, on top of the covers.

The connecting door was open. Dean walked over slowly to peek inside, expecting to see at least someone awake, and indeed although Ellen was asleep on one of the beds, Bobby was still staring at a laptop screen with several police reports spread out around him. He glanced up when Dean came in, looking like he needed some of that sleep the others had finally started catching.

"Went outside a few minutes ago," Bobby said quietly, knowing what Dean was thinking even before he did, "Said he needed air. Might be a good thing for you too. Not much to go on still," he admitted, "But there's time yet."

Dean just smiled, nodded. He grabbed his jacket that he had left in there who knows when and slipped on the first pair of male shoes he saw. "I'll go bring Goldilocks back in then. He could probably use the rest." Then he was out the door, headed for the one spot he knew his quarry would be.

The Impala's engine was purring when Dean opened the passenger side door and slipped inside.

"So lemme guess," Dean said without looking at his brother, "Figured you'd save yourself some time and get used to sitting in that seat early. Am I right?"

If Sam thought Dean's antics were amusing he only expressed it with the meagerest pull at his lips. "Dean…" he said, the way everyone kept saying his name so plaintively. There was no music playing to dull the silence, only the rumble of Dean's baby.

"Sorry to have to tell you this," Dean went right on, "But I kinda already promised the Impala to Sasha awhile back seeing as how he'd appreciate it more." He grinned sideways, glancing across at Sam. "Knowing you there'd probably be one of those damn Ipod jack things hooked in before the end of the first week."

This time Sam laughed, a little stunted but real. But his eyes filled with anguished soon after and he tried again, as insistent as Sasha had been earlier. "Dean…"

"Happy May Day, Sammy."

The rumble of the engine didn't matter then; silence fell upon them like a hailstorm of stones. It was after midnight. May 1st. In 24 hours, when May 2nd reared its ugly head, Dean's time would be up. He kind of hated himself for mentioning it, but he couldn't bear to hear goodbyes from Sammy either.

He had a few theories, a few long shots that might help them find Lilith before the end. He didn't want to go to Hell. He had wanted Sam to live. He got that, and he didn't regret what he sacrificed for it, but having to leave now when things were finally starting to feel like a real life was too unfair.

"I'm never strong enough…when it matters," came Sam's voice softly from beside him, strangely damp and so tired, "Not like you and Dad."

Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline; that had to be one of the most ridiculous things he had ever heard. "You going senile now? You've always been the strong one. You stood up to Dad. You save my ass so often I've lost count. And you're handling being a freak way better than I could, lemme tell ya," he joked, knowing Sam would roll his eyes and laugh again, "Besides, you…sure as Hell wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess," he finished quietly.

That sparked another wave of sadness to pass over Sam's eyes. "God, Dean, sometimes you sound like you don't think you deserve to be saved. Do you think I care that it was selfish? Think I blame you for not wanting to have to do this alone? I don't even think that was the real reason. I think you couldn't stand that the one job Dad kept pounding into you…slipped through your fingers. It wasn't even your fault, Dean. Like it's so much more important to take care of me than yourself," he scoffed, "You didn't want to let Dad down. You didn't want to let…me down. That's not selfish, Dean. You gave up everything for me…"

Swift as the tears started falling, Sam's hand was there to scrub them away, but every time he wiped a few clean, more were there to replace them.

"Why do you always have to take up everyone else's burdens? And yet you think you're worth so little. You brought me back. Everything I am now, all this power," he stared at his hands like they were foreign objects, and Dean understood that even for Sam sometimes the thing those hands could do were so very foreign, "I'm only strong enough to do this, to prove Yellow Eyes and all the rest of them wrong because of you. Sarah. Sasha. All the things I wouldn't know if you hadn't…" he choked back a sob that he tried to mask and failed.

Dean didn't know what to say. "Sammy…"

Sam took a breath, made himself keep going. "Sometimes I want to thank you, Dean. And then I want to hate you…for thinking I could ever have the strength to do what you couldn't either. Face this alone."

"You're not alone," Dean said with resolve, eyes blurring uncontrollably, "We're a whole damn caravan now, Sammy. You're not alone."

But Sam just shook his head. "It isn't fair. All this power and I can't do anything. I should be able to sense her. I keep thinking that if I could just…" he trailed, squeezed the steering wheel so tight his hands looked cracked, and then slowly pulled them away to fall to his lap, "You know…sometimes I think the only thing holding me back, the reason I can't tap into the last of this power, be white eyes all the time, stronger…is because I'm waiting for you to tell me it's okay."

There was Dean's chance. It might be his only chance to make sure that no matter what happened Sam would survive without him. "And what if I did tell you it's okay?" he said, eyes on his brothers face, on those hazel eyes that always found their way back no matter what color the changed to, "Lilith isn't just another demon, but she is a demon. You're not. What better way to prove Yellow Eyes and Malak wrong…then to let you go all the way."

Sam's eyes were wide, disbelieving. "Dean?"

"After everything that's happened, you wouldn't dare let me down now, would you?" Dean smiled, praying he was right to trust in Sam because it was one of the few things he had ever had faith in his entire life. "I gotta believe in you, Sammy," he said, "Or…I'm pretty well screwed." With a smirk he glanced away, but when he glanced back he found that Sam was smiling too.

Dean held out his hand and Sam took it without reservation. Time wasn't on their side, but as long as Sam was still on Dean's, nothing else mattered.

"So…what are we doing?" Jo asked, arms tight around her body to stay the early morning cold, "He's gonna try and what? Supe up his powers so he can finally see where Lilith is?"

"Pretty much," Dean shrugged, "If all goes well he'll do that, yeah. Might even be able to summon her."

They were standing out in the middle of an empty corn field, not yet planted and far enough away from the road that no one would notice them. Sam had said it would be easier if he had some extra space as he wasn't really sure what would happen and Lilith would undoubtedly be unpredictable if she was actually brought he by his power.

It had already been decided that they couldn't use the Colt if Lilith showed up, or later if they tracked her down. Dean could never justify shooting some little kid to save himself. Trying to paint a devil's trap over the leftover bits of corn stalks or raw soil wouldn't work all that well either. Sam could create a devil's trap if need be, but they couldn't even be sure it would be enough to hold a demon as supposedly powerful as Lilith.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" Sarah smiled at Dean, having believed in Sam all along and pushed the idea of summoning demons from the beginning. It wasn't that Dean hadn't believed in Sam before, he was just more wary of the demon factor—they never played fair.

"You sure about this, boy?" asked Bobby. They were far enough away from Sam to give him space but close enough that they would be able to reach him fast if they needed to.

Dean knew just how to reply. "He is," he nodded at Sam, "That's good enough for me."

It was windy and cold, overcast. Sasha slipped up behind Dean suddenly and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. PDA alert for certain, especially with the way Ellen and Bobby glanced at them and then quickly looked away again, but Dean liked the added warmth. He leaned back against Sasha and waited, eyes on Sam who seemed to just be standing out there in the field gathering strength.

Several minutes passed where nothing happened. Sam's eyes were closed, his hands slightly outstretched. He looked like he was waiting to be abducted by aliens, Dean nearly snorted.

When they first started to feel a difference around them it came in short bursts, pulses of power coming off of Sam like a drumbeat. Sam was facing away from them but somehow Dean knew the moment that Sam's eyes opened. He also knew that Sam's eyes were white without having ever touched yellow.

If this was what Malak wanted then they were going to take all that destiny crap back from the bastard and make it their own.

A pulse strong enough to be visible to the naked eye nearly knocked all of them to the ground. Sam's voice rose above the wind, roaring, howling, screaming, Dean realized, and then suddenly Sam dropped to his knees and Dean was running forward before he even realized his feet were moving.

The wind died to a dead still just as Dean reached his brother. He fell beside him and grabbed Sam's shoulders. It was like being back at the cave, right outside of it when Sam was bleeding horribly from using too much power to save Dean. It was just like that, blood seeping from Sam's nose, his ears, his eyes—eyes that were full-on white just as Dean knew they would be.

The others huddled in around them but Dean stayed with Sam on the ground, holding Sam's shoulders fast. "Jesus, what happened?" he asked, "Did you even get anything out of that? You look like Hell."

Sam stared up at Dean with an unnerving grin. "Not as much…as she does," he said, gasping but able to hold himself up mostly on his own power, "Dean, I…I got to her. She…f-fought…so hard to keep me from seeing her, but…but I got her. I couldn't…summon her, her powers, they're…too much like mine. But I'm stronger. I know I am. She can't hide from me now," he grinned wider.

That expression, so wicked and wide was indeed Sam's grin from the cave. The eyes just made it worse. But just when Dean was sure he had made a horrible mistake, Sam blinked and there was hazel.

He smiled—smiled like he wasn't Sam's darkside with a penchant for power-play—and grabbed Dean's arm with a firm hand. "I know where she is," he said.

It was Bobby, wary as Dean knew the elder hunter was of all of this, who walked right up to them, held out his hands for both of them to take, and said, "Then by God, you idjits, let's go get her."

One of these days Dean was definitely going to have to invest a little time in doing some serious squats.

Gathering up all of their things, tracking Lilith down to a small residential block, and even coming up with a completely insane plan hadn't taken all that long. Hours, sure, but anyone less trained than them would have needed a whole day for the planning alone. What did take the better part of their day, and the beginning of the night, was scouting the neighborhood and the setting up of various traps. Dean had spent most of that time crouched or crawling and his thighs were starting to burn.

Most of the crew was getting anxious, but they might only get one shot at this and they had to sacrifice a little time for stability. There were so many civilians involved it made Dean sick.

Lilith didn't seem worried about Sam tracking her down seeing as how she hadn't fled from where he sensed her. That might have to do with what she mentioned about wanting to 'play' with them, however, but Dean tried not to think about that.

She seemed to be doing plenty of playing anyway. The girl she had taken over had a family that for now was alive. From an outside perspective, peeking in windows and catching what they could see visually, it might have looked like nothing was wrong.

But Dean knew better. It was the same little girl he had been visited by in the school—she was home-schooled which was one of the reasons they had so much trouble tracking her down. Everything about this block in Savage, the family, it was all too normal to have sent up any red flags in their research. They knew now though. Dean could see the barely contained horror behind the fake smiles of the girl's family, pretending, playing along and probably having no idea why their little girl wasn't theirs anymore.

The plan got more complicated with the involvement of what they considered hostages. Lilith also had her entourage, demons she had summoned to be her watchdogs and make sure no one spoiled her fun. They were in almost every neighbor on the block. The hunters didn't have time to exorcize all of them without alerting Lilith, and if they ignored them and went for Lilith directly, they'd be swarmed. Working around such obstacles required ingenuity. And the hotel's sheets.

The phone in Dean's pocket buzzed from a text. Sam was pretty sure Lilith couldn't sense him as strongly as he could sense her, but he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks with telepathy. Dean nodded at Sasha who was with him and they read over the message.

'All in place. Bobby, Ellen, Jo neighbors. Sarah ready with me. Go on signal.' It was all very Mission Impossible, Dean thought. He'd have to tease Sam about that later.

Back to his Olympian thigh and ass workout, Dean crouched low and Sasha did the same. There was a side door leading into the kitchen that they would enter when the time came. The others had helped them find the blind-spots that got them this close to the house. They just had to hold tight a little longer. After Sarah made her move it was Dean and Sasha's job to get the innocents out and out of harm's way.

He and Sasha huddled close together, squished against the siding between the kitchen door and a window. Dean curled his head into the groove of Sasha's neck. He could hear through the window, open just a crack, as the little girl who was actually something so horrible and sinister played her games.

"No, Mommy. Not that dress. It isn't pretty. I have to be pretty."

"Oh…honey, of…of course. What was I thinking?" A tremor. Dean could hear it even though the voices were faint.

"Sweetheart," said a man, the father, Dean assumed, "Maybe…maybe we should take a break. A nap. Everyone. We're all…so tired from all of the…fun," Dean could practically hear the labored smile, "Why don't we stop playing dress-up for awhile?"

The stiff silence that followed was enough to make Dean clutch onto Sasha's jacket. It wasn't only the parents in there but an aunt and older brother too. If it came down to either acting too early or letting someone die while they waited for Sarah, Dean was ready to move.

There were a few soft and angry mumbles from Lilith that Dean couldn't hear. Sasha's hearing was more astute though and when Dean glanced up to read the incubus' reaction the round and wide eyes quivering back at him said enough.

"Sweetheart, wait!" Dean heard from the father.

"You know he didn't mean that," the mother said quickly.

Who knows how long Lilith had been torturing these people playing house. Sarah could make her move any time now, Dean thought.

There was more mumbling, maybe a little from everyone, talking gently to appease the girl. The brother was a young teenager, fourteen maybe. It was his voice that rose above the others with a suggestion of dress-up with the girl's dolls so that everyone could look 'pretty'.

There was a rustle of cloth then—close to the window—and Lilith said, "I love you, big brother. You're the best brother ever."

Dean shuddered. 'Creepy-ass chick,' he mouthed to Sasha. This demon had her own definition of torture, and it was much worse than most physical forms Dean could imagine.

Suddenly, something had cut through the air and Dean heard the faint chink of shattered class. Then a thud. "Stephen?" Lilith questioned with nearly believable concern. More sounds of sliced air, breaking glass, and accompanying thuds. "Mommy? Daddy? Aunt Jane?" Lilith's voice grew louder and angry with realization. "That wasn't very nice, Sam," she said, "You wouldn't want me to play with your things, would you?"

Definitely their cue to move. But before Dean could stand and rush in through the kitchen door as they were supposed to, Sasha was kissing him, brief but all-encompassing with a sudden lunge forward. Dean returned the gesture, how could he not—soft lips, insistent tongue, Sasha—but it froze him in place after they pulled apart.

The sounds of shattering glass, much louder than the crash of tiny tranquilizer darts shooting through the windows into civilians, alerted Dean and Sasha that now was not the time for a poignant moment.

They were on their feet immediately, looking in through the window where they could see the unconscious bodies of Lilith's playthings as well as the startling sight of Sarah being pulled none too gently into the house by Lilith's power. So much for thinking their sniper would be safe at a far enough distance.

Sam was right behind her, running at full pelt to catch up to Sarah before Lilith could do anything further. Without waiting to see if Sam was successful or not, Dean and Sasha busted into the kitchen. The brother's body was easy to grab. Aunt Jane's too. But the parents were by Lilith who now had Sarah pinned to the dining room wall.

Taking the innocents out of the equation like this had been a good idea when they though of it, barring Lilith's pissed-off state. Dean hoped Bobby and the others were fairing better with Lilith's minions.

He and Sasha finished carrying out the two bodies they had been able to reach, laying them on the lawn in the blind spot they hoped would stay blind enough to offer protection. Dean just wanted to get back inside the house and help Sam. Sam could best Lilith's powers, they all believed that now, but it would take time, concentration, everything Sam had.

The sound of Bobby's voice caught Dean's attention and he looked up across the lawn at the next house. The elder hunter was speaking the words of exorcism to a family of demons. All three of them had fallen for one of their traps, a well-placed sheet thrown over the grass with a devil's trap painted on it—efficient and mobile. The hotel definitely wouldn't be wanting that back.

Dean thought of Ellen and Jo doing just as Bobby was in other places around the neighborhood, trying to buy them time that was quickly slipping away the more things continued not going as planned.

Three more demons suddenly appeared, rushing up from out of nowhere behind Bobby who was not yet finished exorcising the demons he already had. Sasha cried out to warn him, sprinting ahead.

"Sasha, wait!" Dean called. This was all getting turned around. He didn't know whose aid to rush to.

There was another crash from the house and Dean whipped around. He watched in horrified amazement as Sam arched through the air and landed hard on the ground outside after being thrown through the sliding glass doors into the backyard. Lilith was walking slowly and assuredly after him.

Shit.

"Dean!" That was Sasha and Dean instantly turned again. The incubus had transformed, fangs bared, wings spread, claws ready as he fended off the demons for Bobby, trying to somehow get them into the devil's trap along with the others. "Go, Dean!" Sasha cried, "Find Sarah! Get the parents out!" The odds were bad but Sasha seemed to be fairing well enough. Dean knew he had to listen.

Glancing briefly to see that Sam and Lilith were circling each other in the large backyard, Dean had to forget those other battles for now as he charged back into the house.

It was a mess, to put it mildly, mainly broken furniture that must have been thrown around by Sam and Lilith fighting. The bodies of the parents looked okay. Then Dean saw Sarah slumped against a wall, coughing into the dining room floor.

"Hey!" Dean called as he rushed to her, "You alright?" He crouched down and could see that she was cut up pretty bad from being sucked into the house. None of the cuts were all that deep but there were many. "Lemme get you out of here. I need to get them out too," he looked at the unconscious couple.

Sarah shook her head. She stood on her own power instead of letting Dean help. "I can get the mother," she said, continuing on before Dean could protest, "We don't have time for chivalry. I'm okay."

Dean highly doubted that but he knew better than to argue right now.

Even moving sluggishly, Sarah was able to keep up with Dean and carry the mother out of the house. They laid the parents next to the others, as safe as they could be for now. It looked like Bobby had finished with his three demons and was attempting to start over and exorcise Sasha's, but none of those demons had been successfully forced into the trap. As Bobby's words got further along in the spell, Sasha was able to hang onto one of them but the other two took off running. Dean pulled the crossbow from his jacket and gave chase.

Sam was giving Lilith everything he had, Dean could see that clearly as he neared them. Melting power was out of the question again—there was a little girl in there somewhere—but Sam was fighting hard with everything else, even trying to assault her with mojo at the same time he summoned a runic devil's trap around her. But she kept resisting, even dismissed the trap with a wave of her hand.

Knowing he had to leave them be yet again, Dean continued to chase after the escaping demons, who he feared might go for reinforcements. They were stretched thin enough as it was.

The backyard held a steep hill—Dean couldn't see beyond it—and the demons were running up it with long strides. Dean couldn't shake the feeling that if they reached the top he would lose them.

He aimed the crossbow and fired twice in easy succession, each shot hitting one of the demons in the back of the knee to bring them down. Dean leapt forward, falling upon them fiercely to pull the stakes free. He stabbed them into the demons' shoulders then to better hold them as Latin sprang to his lips.

If only it could be that simple to immobilize and dispatch Lilith, but after what had happened with Vapula they knew better than to waste the ammo.

The demons writhed, barely able to move as Dean spoke on. He only found it difficult to continue chanting when Lilith's giggle echoed up to him. "You're so much fun, Sam," she was saying, "We should play all the time."

Dean had to finish the exorcism but he couldn't resist looking down the hill at Sam and Lilith. It was Sam's back to Dean and Lilith's front, with a too sweet smile, pale blue dress, and even a plastic tiara on her strawberry blonde head from playing dress-up. She barely had to raise her hands to dismiss Sam's mental attacks, but the more she did so the angrier and more reckless Sam became, until he finally shot electricity from the melting power right at her midsection. She blocked it but the force pushed her across the lawn.

"So fun," she giggled again, "No one can play like you can. You should be my brother, Sam. I'd be so good for a real big brother."

That was it. Dean spat out the last of the exorcism and the demons with him shot black smoke from their bodies and were gone. He didn't have time to care about the hosts left behind. He was up and ready to rush back down the hill when he heard the first howl.

The blood stilled in Dean's veins. Not yet. They still had time.

"I can call demons too, Sam, isn't that neat?" Lilith said, "That includes so many things, you know. You should try it more. I think my puppies are hungry, so hungry waiting on big bad Dean and for his time to run out. Maybe we should feed them a little early."

Another howl pierced the air around them. Dean looked all direction, knowing he wouldn't be able to see them anyway. Not hellhounds. And that meant something else. He didn't know which direction to run.

What Dean could see from up on the hill was Lilith's smirk, Sam's panicked stance, Bobby and Sasha finally rushing to join them while Sasha helped the wounded Sarah with an arm about her waist. There was even Ellen and Jo coming, looking no worse for the wear as they came from the other side of the neighborhood, successful as Bobby had been successful with ridding them of annoying minions.

That wouldn't matter, however, if Lilith summoned more, if she called for the very things that could drag Dean's soul down to the depths and tear his body apart.

"You got rid of all my friends," Lilith said with a large pout, looking about at the others who were forming a circle around her and Sam, "That's no fun at all. Meanies. I don't need mean people like you around. I'll just have to get rid of you so me and Sam and Dean can play by ourselves." Her arms shot out from her sides as she said that, already beginning to glow with a white and blinding light.

"No!" Sam cried as if he knew just what she was doing. He threw himself at Lilith to block the light, no longer caring that any physical attack might seriously hurt the little girl. He would have tackled her if she hadn't brought both hands in front of her suddenly to fire this white light power straight into him instead.

It knocked Sam back, forcing all of the others, Dean included, to shield their eyes, but when the light faded nothing had happened to Sam. "No fair," Lilith stomped her foot, "That would have melted your friends, you know. But you're too much like me, aren't you, Sam? I didn't die at first. I was like you. I was human and became a demon before I died. You're like me, but they made you different, you see. You're special, Sam."

"Shut up," Sam grit out as he got back to his feet, "I'm not a demon. I'm not like you. I can still choose."

That melodious and sinister giggle rose up again. "I thought Dean chose for you now," she said.

Sam's arms lifted towards her but she was ready, holding at a standoff just as Sam had done with Meg. Lilith was far more powerful, however, but then Sam had grown more powerful too. Who knew how long they could remain like this with no one getting the upper hand.

Dean didn't want to look at his watch but he knew they were cutting things too close. They had known that when they started this.

Another howl had Dean flinching. Lilith's hellhounds were closer and there were several of them, he was certain. He was afraid to run down the hill and join the others in case she was counting on that and the invisible beasts were waiting for him there. Sasha, if not all of them, had heard that last round of howls too and understood. Sasha still had Sarah but he looked up the hill at Dean, eyes pained and desperate. Dean knew just what the incubus was planning when he suddenly released her and reached into his jacket.

"Sasha, no!" Dean cried. They had swore, all of them had promised that the Colt would be left behind. But there it was in Sasha's hands, aiming right at the little girl.

"I don't care," Sasha shook his head, catching Lilith's attention easily since all of them were staring at him, "It's her or Dean. And we're out of time." He cocked the gun.

"No." It was Sam this time who dissented, his voice even and assured as he said, "It's her or me."

Part of Dean couldn't believe Sasha could go against his wishes like that. But then yes he could. How did he know he wouldn't do the same?

He could hear the howls getting closer as if Lilith were taunting him with the slow approach of her hounds. But Sam was still fighting, certain he would be enough to banish her for good, leaving no need to fire that damn gun and kill an innocent girl along with her. Sasha was hesitant to listen, close as it was to the end, but when he looked up the hill again he cast a guilty look at Dean and his arms dropped.

It was the strangest balcony view, looking down on everyone from the top of the steep slope. Bobby, Sarah, and Sasha on the left, Ellen and Jo on the right, Sam and Lilith facing each other in the middle of it all. Whatever Sam was starting to do to Lilith in place of allowing the Colt it was causing her smug smile to slip, and Sam wasn't even holding out his arms to help focus his power on her.

"Stop," Lilith warned, "You're not as strong as you think. You'll rip this poor girl to shreds, Sam. And she's so pretty, isn't she? You wouldn't want to do that. Might as well let the mean incubus shoot me."

But Sam wasn't listening. He held so still it unnerved Dean. Dean wished he could see Sam's eyes, but he could only see the back of Sam, standing steadfast while the others hung back and watched. The howls continued to grow louder, so loud that Dean couldn't help glancing about him again as his heart picked up speed inside his chest.

What was Sam doing? It didn't look the same as how they had been fighting up until now. Dean could see no force pushing against Lilith, no electricity, no strain from resisting mojo. She looked annoyed, worried, unsure of herself. That alone told Dean that Sam was doing something, he just didn't know what.

He did, however, wish his brother would hurry up. The hellhounds were closing in on him, Dean knew it, he could feel it. He turned to look behind him at the feel of their presence approaching and right then he felt like such a fool. Hellhounds were invisible. But not to the damned. He could see them coming from over the top of the hill like great black German Shepherds made of shadow and hellfire.

He got ready to run. And then realized he didn't have to.

The hellhounds flew past Dean, wind coming in a great rush along with them from their great speed as they shot down the hill straight for Sam. The thought that maybe this was Lilith's doing crossed Dean's mind only for a moment. He knew that their master was different now; these hounds belonged to Sam.

"Silly boy!" Lilith called as the hellhounds rushed them, the others unable to see the pack of dogs the way Dean could, "You think this matters? I'll see you again." Then the dogs leapt, and they dove right through Sam like mist onward into Lilith.

Dean saw the lead dog come out of the girl on the other side with black smoke swirling in its mouth. They didn't stop but disappeared right down into the earth, leaving behind an awake and very alive little girl.

Moments later, she had dove for the first safe thing she saw—Sam's arms.

Sammy had out-summoned Lilith and used her own hellhounds to carry her back down to Hell where she belonged.

"Less than ten minutes," said Jo, holding up her watch, "Next time let's plan this a little less closely to the wire, okay?"

"So it's…over?" Sasha said, the Colt limp in his hand, "Dean…" He looked up the hill with the worst kind of anguish, still asking forgiveness but also filled with such pained relief that he couldn't even smile. Soon they were all looking at him and Dean felt strangely exposed because of it. He looked back at them all, at his friends, his family.

"Always so quick to celebrate."

No. Dean was still so far away from everyone; he didn't want to turn and look. Up at the top of the hill where the hellhounds had bounded down on him was Malak, male and grinning as he walked down towards Dean past the bodies of the demons Dean had exorcised. They were unconscious, maybe dead. Had they been dead before, ridden too hard, or was it merely Malak's presence, Dean wondered.

"Bravo," Malak said, stopping just in front of Dean and looking down past him at the others, at Sam, "Really well done, Sam, that ending was quite inspired. But I'm afraid time is almost up, you see. And you're still one demon short."

"What?" It was Sasha who balked and stormed halfway up the hill in his anger, "Don't you dare try that shit on us. You said we had one left before. Lilith. She's gone now and you can't make up new demons to add to the list."

"I thought you prided yourself on order," Sam jumped in, keeping a better calm than the incubus but not by much as he moved away from the girl, leaving Ellen to move in and take his place comforting her, "Such a stickler for the rules and now you're going to break them?"

Something that had been gnawing at Dean for some time started to crawl forward from the back of his mind. He looked hard at Malak who was smiling so self-satisfied. "Break the rules?" Malak laughed, "Not at all. Think of what I told you. Right from the very beginning I made it clear that you needed to kill or banish all of the demons that escaped the Devil's Gate. All I told you the other night was that Lilith was the last of those demons on Earth."

Yep, Dean was definitely getting that sinking feeling.

The others didn't get it though. Sam should. Sam of all of them should understand.

"That doesn't make any sense," Sasha said with a glare, "What are you trying to say, that some demon made it into NASA?"

Dean laughed. He couldn't help it.

Malak was right in front of him, close enough to touch. Dean's apparent mirth seemed to please the demon.

"You understand, don't you, Dean?" he said, "No trick. No demon in space. No, no. I hadn't any need for that. I think perhaps you've known for some time that you were never going to win."

No he wasn't. Dean never stood a chance. "You set it up perfectly," he agreed, "So perfect we didn't even get it. It never would have mattered how we went about it or how quickly we got rid of all the demons. There always would have been one demon we couldn't catch. One demon from the Devil's Gate we couldn't even touch." Dean turned to look down the hill again at Sasha and Sam who were standing halfway up the slope, and at the others all unable to grasp what was happening.

"Dean…?" Sam breathed, brow tightly knit.

Dean just smiled. "Dad," he said, "We really are idiots, Sammy. We forgot about Dad."

Confusion and then horrid recognition filled Sam's eyes.

The very thing that had saved them, that had led them to being finally able to kill Yellow Eyes once and for all was what would in the end condemn Dean. His father had tried to save him but John Winchester underestimated how far his son would go to return the favor for Sam.

"He was in Hell," Dean said for those who didn't understand, "He escaped when the others did. Helped us even. But he…he wasn't destroyed. He didn't get sent back. He just…faded away." Dean recalled it so vividly, his father evaporating into demon smoke that had looked somehow infused with light.

"Just faded away," Malak echoed, smug and so pleased from behind Dean, "Oh my dear Dean, your lack of faith is so very refreshing."

"No," Sasha shook his head, tears already hot on his face, "You can't take him! It isn't fair!"

Malak rolled his snake-like red on back eyes, unimpressed with that old excuse. "Fairness hardly plays a role, dear boy. Of course if we're talking rules and obligations and that Dean made a deal and I am merely seeing it through to the end, then fair is exactly what this is."

"I'll stop them," Sam said suddenly, desperate as Sasha, "If you try to send for the hellhounds I won't let them touch him."

"And who says I need them?" Malak replied.

Dean's eyes returned to the black suit, the black shirt and red tie, the blonde hair and horrible eyes. It was a handsome face that smiled possessively back at him. Dean had assumed it was a guise, but there was no ripped and torn true version of this demon hiding beneath the surface. Dean saw Malak as he truly was. Beautiful and shining.

"Goodness," the demon said as if suddenly remembering something terribly important. He stopped to pull that same silver pocket watch from his jacket. Opened it. "Explaining does pass the time. My apologies, Dean." He turned the clock for Dean to read it. "One minute late."

Click.

The only thing Dean could be certain of was the rush of darkness that filled him when Malak's hand touched his shoulder. If he fell, felt pain, felt burned or ripped from his body, screamed even, he couldn't be sure. There was only darkness and the empty echo of Sam and Sasha and all the others calling after him.

"Dean!"

The sun is rising
The screams have gone
Too many have fallen
Few still stand tall
Is this the ending
Of what we've begun?
Will we remember
What we've done wrong…?

THE END…of ARC 8! But TBC right here with ARC 9: Hell

A/N: Never said I could keep him out of Hell, but I think most of you figured that. Anyone guess the loophole about John? Hence there being a John character who looked like him for subtle reminder without actually saying, hey, remember that John was in Hell? ;-)

Diana Wickham, you know I love you, dearie, and damn must I agree about the recent ep. Rather lack-luster. Sort of a, remember what happened before the break, with Dean telling Sam about Hell? Yeah...he's still pretty messed up over that.

Okay then. So anyway, other than that, at least the boys are back. Sorry for not getting this up when I wanted but it turned out the new eppy didn't touch at all on the continuing storyline so it didn't really matter.

You get another week for the drabble contest as I haven't chosen a winner yet. No time!

Blackbeltblondie, I tried to email a thank you for your comment at the website but it got returned. So...thanks!

Haley, my dear, you disabled allowing others to PM you so I could not respond. However, I'm sure you noticed your request which was already planned, so I was happy to oblige. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm not sure how you even can disable PMs but you want to undo that if possible. I like being able to respond!

Anonymous person with the harpy comment: Cool idea. Might do that in the Epilpgue if possible though I have things fairly well planned from here on out. Thanks for the idea though as I know I could have fun with that if I get the chance!

Deangirl1, don't feel bad about reviewing since I haven't gotten to like the last 10 chapters of your bunny drabble. Bad me!

Well I need to give attention to my hubby. Next Arc: Hell. Oh the fun I have in store for Dean and the others. FYI, the first chapter will not begin in Hell. More soon!

Crimson