Author's note: This is the last chapter. A big thanks so much to all of you who read, alerted, favorited, and reviewed. It really makes my day every time someone lets me know they're reading and makes all the hard work that goes into these things worth it. I really can't express how much it means (though if you're a fellow fanfic author, you'll get it, lol). You guys are the best!

CHAPTER 14 – Epilogue

Three and a half months later...

Dean couldn't stop stealing glances over at his brother sitting in the passenger seat... frowning, pouting, fucking breathing. Three days ago he had been sitting staring at Sammy's cold, still, lifeless body. Then he'd made that deal...

"Take a picture, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat and reached forward to turn on the radio. "So no mention of Jenna or Tyler, huh?" he asked for the third time, as much out of genuine worry as an effort to change the subject.

"No," Sam assured him. "I asked all the psychic kids there and none of them had heard of either of them. They got Chelsea from the Road House..."

"And burned it down in the process," Dean cut in with a snarl.

"Well, even with Ellen's training, Chelsea got killed before I even got there. Ava admitted to it. But no Jenna and no Tyler."

"Think they managed to stay off Yellow-Eyes' radar? Maybe miss the psychic kid round-up?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, man. Their phones were disconnected over two months ago and they haven't contacted us since. I know they were going to lay low but they said they would stay in touch. Doesn't bode well."

"You said Quinn was good." Dean was trying to sound hopeful. "Maybe she's so good, even we can't find them."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam didn't look convinced. They both sat in silence, lost in their own worries for their friends for a long moment before Sam's eyes suddenly widened and he gasped. "Oh, crap!" he said.

"What? What?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Huh, it's just something Jenna told me. I didn't mention it to you because it... well I didn't want you to worry."

"Spit it out."

"Reagan told her she had seen our futures."

"Me and you?"

"No, me and Jenna. Reagan could only see us psychic kids, remember?"

"So what did she see?"

"She said I was going to die. I hadn't thought about it much because I figured Reagan was probably just bluffing but Dean, I did die."

"Don't remind me." Dean's stomach did a somersault at the way-too-fresh memory of his brother gasping his last breath in his arms. "So what did she see for Jenna? Does she die too?"

The younger Winchester winced. "No. It's kind of worse. She said Jenna would just wish she was dead."

~X~X~X~X~X~

Jenna clawed at the strong hand tilting her chin up as she coughed and sputtered past the thick, warm liquid being forced down her throat. Every time she tried to spit it up, the demon's free hand would land a solid blow in her stomach and the choking would start over again a second or two later as her reflexes automatically tried to suck in a mouthful of air.

"Why do you always have to do this the hard way?" the demon growled angrily. "We've been doing this dance for two months now. It always ends up with you one pint of demon-blood richer and us with one more pal topside. Just stop fighting us."

"F-f-fuck you, Cole," she sputtered, spitting a mouthful of red into the demon's face.

"God Damnit!" he cursed, releasing her face and cuffing her on the side of the head hard enough to knock her to the ground. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the door of the room she was in and the demon smirked down at her. "You'll play ball tonight, bitch. The boss is coming."

Jenna's eyes widened noticeably in fear and she instinctively placed her right hand over the empty space between the ring and index fingers of her left hand. Her middle digit had been the unfortunate winner of a cruel game of eenie-meenie-miney-mo the last time 'the boss' had asked her to bring a demon topside and she had refused.

The door swung open and slammed against the concrete wall next to it before she could finish scrambling to her feet. The demon strode a few paces into the room and stopped. He was possessing the same man he had inhabited the last few times she had met him. Early forties, decent looking, nicely dressed, dark hair, English accent, and a deep gravelly voice that would actually be sexy had it not belonged to a sadistic bastard intent on becoming King of Hell. He sized up the situation quickly, narrowing his eyes at the near-full jar of red liquid in his minion's grasp and the still un-possessed meatsuit gagged and tied to a chair in the corner.

"Jenna, my dear," he clucked. "Miss me?"

Jenna tried to put on a brave face. "I'm not doing it again, Crowley."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm afraid you're wrong there, love. You will do it again. In fact, I'm going to be needing you to pick up the pace. See, Azazel's bloody plan is in full swing now and a couple of hundred demons on his side just got brought topside courtesy of your old friends, the Winchesters."

Her head snapped up at the mention of Sam and Dean. "They wouldn't!" she gasped.

"Oh but they did. Mince for brains, the pair of them. I am so glad I decided they were more trouble than they were worth this time round. It was making a play for the Winchester Moose that brought that yellow-eyed brown-noser down on my last operation. So that just leaves me with you and the little mind-reader this time. And with Azazel's side now two hundred stronger, I need to even the playing field, and fast."

Jenna shook her head. "I'm not bringing any more demons up."

Crowley made a noise that sounded a lot like a growl. Jenna had figured out he liked the sound of his own voice and at least when he was talking, he wasn't cutting or slicing so she quickly dialed back the defiance and tried to steer the conversation to something less likely to cost her any more fingers.

"What happened to Sam and Dean?"

"Once-dead and soon-to-be dead, I'm afraid. I have to hand it to them, they managed to put a bullet in Azazel's skull in the process but that doesn't matter anymore since fucking Lilith is topside and she's much, much worse."

"Th-they're dead?"

"Unfortunately for them, no. See, I came across a juicy morsel of information even Azazel doesn't know yet. Turns out neither of the Winchesters are run of the mill humans. They just happen to be the preferred choice of celestial tea cozies to the two biggest assholes ever to exist. Flesh-puppets for the fight to end all fights. Tainted blood, you see, just like yours love."

"Dean's human," Jenna argued. "He's normal."

Crowley snorted. "The man eats cheeseburgers like they're going out of style, the only workout he ever does is the horizontal kind, yet he still manages to look like a freaking underwear model. Does that seem normal to you? Even Azazel never figured out Dean's full role in all this. That fool thinks it's over as soon as one of the righteous squad cries uncle downstairs." He tilted his head and gave her a cocky smirk. "There are always two, you see. You lot come in pairs. Oh, some of the pairs may not know each other, like John Winchester and his counterpart, that simpering Nick guy in Ohio. But see, that's what moves you and G.I. Jane up the ranks, you being so cozy with each other. And Sam and Dean? Well they're ridiculously codependent and then some, so don't worry, the Winchesters are far more special than you and Talise because they're first in line. You ladies are middle of the pack. Maybe ninth or tenth choice. So not all that special, really. Not special enough for the cloud hoppers to come looking for you, at any rate."

Jenna tried to follow what the demon was rambling about but not much of it made sense. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "In line for what? Chosen for what?"

"Oh don't worry. Not a lottery you'd want to win, love. Better them than you, trust me." He wagged his finger at her. "Especially you. You're the dark half." He clapped his hands. "But I digress. Where were we? Oh yes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Here's the name. Bring him topside."

She swallowed but made no move to take the paper from his hand. "No. No more. I can't keep doing this."

"You will and you know it." He moved to retrieve the jar of blood from the table and brought it over to her, stepping inside the circular symbol she had learned was a devil's gate, put there to make it easier for her to bring Hell's residents topside. He held it out to her with the paper.

Jenna shook her head, trying to keep her hands from trembling too visibly. He was going to get mad and he was absolutely terrifying when he got mad. Not to mention spontaneously violent.

"No," she said. "You may as well kill me coz I'm not doing it anymore."

"Don't tempt me." He waved a hand at Cole, who immediately nodded and left the room.

"Where's he going?" she asked fearfully, her voice hitching half way through. No, they couldn't still have...

Crowley didn't answer her question. Instead he stepped up to stand next to her, right in her personal space. "Do you know what's become of Azazel's little psychic club?" he practically purred, his breath hot on her cheek. "They're all dead."

She let out an audible gasp and he laughed.

"Dear old Yellow-Eyes threw them all in the ring and had them fight to the death. Last one standing gets to be his little puppet. But don't worry, that last one standing was Sam Winchester. So you see, if I hadn't caught up with you and Freckle-boy Tyler, Azazel would have got his hands on you and you would have been dead already."

Jenna hadn't heard a thing past 'Sam Winchester'. "Sam wouldn't have…"

His mocking laugh was brimming with sadistic pleasure. "You really don't think Sam would have spared you, do you? What part of 'fight to the death' did you not understand? He won. What does that say about him?"

"Sam would never have killed anyone unless they were evil." She had to believe that. Crowley was toying with her.

"Don't be so bloody naïve." He shoved the jar of blood into her right hand and folded her fingers around it. "Get on with it. This one's pretty deep so it'll be a tough one. You'll need the extra vitamins." He gave her a smug smile and a knowing wink. "Come on now. You know you want it."

She glanced at the terrified man tied to the chair in the corner. He was already screwed, but if she did this to him, she might as well stick a knife in his heart. She was about to throw the jar on the floor in an act of defiance when there was a scuffling sound at the door. She looked up to see Cole enter, followed by another two demons dragging Quinn between them.

"Quinn!" she cried out, immediately choking back tears. "Oh God." Her friend looked terrible. Her hands were tied behind her back and a dirty rag was being used as a gag. Her hair was knotted and dull and streaks of dirt and sweat lined her bruised face. Her clothes were the same ones she had been wearing the last time Jenna had seen her a week ago, only they were even dirtier this time around, if that was even possible. Jenna could see bruises and cuts all over the exposed skin of her arms.

The blonde spun to face Crowley. "You bastard! You said you let her go! You were supposed to let her go!"

Crowley laughed, making his way over to where his henchmen had stopped, their struggling prisoner held firmly between them. "Now why would I go and do that?"

"You promised!"

"I'm a demon. News flash; we lie."

"But we had a deal! You're a crossroads demon. I brought back Ellsworth for you! You have to uphold your end of a deal. You have to!"

"Deals cost souls, you fool. I didn't ask for yours now, did I? Even if I had, you have to pucker up to seal the deal, sweetheart, and if I remember correctly, you spat in my face and told me you'd rather tongue a hippo's wart-covered arsehole. Your mistake."

"Please, Crowley, she can't take much more in her condition." The tears were flowing freely down Jenna's cheeks as she caught Quinn's eye. The ex-Army hunter was hurt and vulnerable but her eyes were still defiant, telling Jenna not to give in on her account with nothing more than a hard stare.

"We'll see about that, shall we?" Crowley gestured to his henchmen and one of them landed a fist in Quinn's side.

"No!" Jenna screamed as the brunette fell to her knees with a muffled sound of pain. She dropped the jar of blood and ran forward. She had almost reached Quinn when Cole grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back.

She struggled but looked back up to see Crowley backhand the demon who had punched Quinn. "Not near the stomach, you imbecile!" he bellowed. He sucked in a deep breath and his temper dissipated as quickly as it had flared. He smiled and helped Quinn back to her feet with an almost gentle tug on the arm. "We wouldn't want to harm what could be our best leverage in a few months time now, would we?" he drawled. He reached forward and laid a hand on her swelling belly, caressing it tenderly. "The spawn of a Winchester could be very valuable in the times to come."

He then flicked open a knife and drew the flat edge of the blade across Quinn's stomach before looking back at Jenna. "Of course, if I don't get my army topside soon, I won't be needing the baby moose, will I? So…" He rotated the blade and sliced a cut across Quinn's upper arm, eliciting a muffled gasp from the gagged prisoner. "What'll it be, Jenna?"

"Okay," Jenna practically sobbed, her last thread of defiance gone. "I'll do it."

Crowley had won. After weeks of being tortured and threatened before moving on to Quinn being tortured and threatened in front of her, Jenna had been ready to make a stand. She had thought Quinn was safe and had been prepared to let them chop off the rest of her fingers and more, hopefully until she mercifully bled to death and got out of this nightmare once and for all, but now... seeing her best friend and only remaining family with blood running down her side and a knife pressed to the side of her face, fear for her unborn child clouding her tormented eyes, Jenna gave in.

"I'll do whatever you want."

~X~X~X~X~X~

Author's Note: The End! Sorry, not a happy ending this time round. I figure most of you suspected Crowley was behind everything in this fic (after all, I gave plenty of hints like hellhound pets, a mansion, calling him a 'limey" and his motives - after all, he diid give the boys the Colt in season 5 because he secretly wanted Lucifer dead) but how many of ya were surprised by the mini-moose twist? Good or bad? That was why Quinn didn't die at the school and although I originally had no intention of doing a sequel for this one, while writing it the ideas just kept coming so if people are interested enough, I may write one set a few years in the future. Season 7 or 8 maybe? Or even season 6 – oh, soulless daddy, *shudder* Tyler would definitely be there too.

So anyway, I hope you were entertained by my fic and don't be shy to let me know what you thought!