OK, you're gonna have to bear with me on this. Got savaged by a plot bunny and had to write this. It's probably gonna become my fourth baby. I am determined not to start any more multi chapters until I get at least Hiding Under A Painted Face and The Five People You Meet In Hell done.

OK, let's get the disclaimer over with. This fic is mainly OC's, so here's a list of who owns who.

Colt: ParaCaerOuVoar

Evie: Bee Winchester David

Daphne: Butterflies of Beauty

Daniel: night-star-93

Celeste: Lover-Fighter-Writer

More info and stuff in the next chapter.

Sam, Dean and everyone else belong to God (i.e. Kripke)

--

I'm running, heart pumping in my chest. Stomach heaving as I battle the nausea that threatens to overcome me. They've all gone, no one left but me.

Just me and myself.

They left me behind.

And hell, if that doesn't hurt like the biggest bitch. But I keep running. Through the death, through the destruction, through the fire and brimstone. I'm running through the damned apocalypse like there are hell hounds on my ass. For all I know, there could be.

Then I see them.

The eight of them, standing in a circle, facing outwards.

My heart aches as I watch them. They're just kids, most of 'em, not even out of their teens.

There's Colt. He likes to think of himself as the leader, and he's right. The other kids all look up to him. He's the Dean to everyone else's Sam, and they adore him.

If Colt's the big brother, then Evie would be the big sister. Loving and caring, the once wild child had settled down into the role of 'Mom' easily. She was born to look after others, it was written on her very soul.

Celeste wasn't really big sister material, more like cool friend of the family. She drank, she smoked, she drove a fast car and listened to rock music. She was every parent's nightmare. But the kids and hell, the hunting world loved her and accepted her.

Daniel was the baby of the family, his mossy eyes wide and innocent. Most of the time. He was small but wiry, easily strong enough to fight off a horde of demons, and he had a wicked sense of humour, with a vocabulary that matched Dean's, pace for pace.

Daphne was different. She always seemed on the outside looking in, but what they didn't realise, what they couldn't see, was that she was the most important of all. She would be the beginning, and the end, of everything.

Castiel, angel of the freaking lord. Becoming more and more human the longer he lives, yet above us all, floating in the heavens with a celestial feeling far beyond my understanding. Lightning crackles as he walks, and we've all learnt to get the hell out of his way when he's pissed.

Then there's the brothers. They're like my sons, and god knows I love em like they're my own, but they're too much like their Daddy, and I've wanted to fill him with buckshot more than once.

Light and Dark personified, they fill a room when they enter it, physically and mentally intimidating to anyone. While they occasionally make me want to bang my head against a doorframe, I couldn't live without them, and probably wouldn't be alive today if they hadn't pulled me out of many a situation.

They stand in the demon made crater, power sizzling in the air. But they still aren't strong enough. They need me. I stand on the edge, watching, adding my power from a distance. I'm frail, breakable. They're not. Or they shouldn't be.

I hear a cry of pain, and they fall. All of them. I can't keep my distance any longer. I scramble down the crater, skidding to a halt when I reach the bottom, tearing through demons, trying to reach the fallen.

I arrive just in time to see the light dim in their brilliant jade eyes, and I can hold it in no longer. Five years of tears spill out over my lids as I watch them fade away.

Castiel, working fast, snaps his wings out, the jet black surrounding us as we grieve for our fallen family. Mustering up all my strength, I add more power to him as he focuses on his angelic forces and take us home. Or to where we considered home now. Singer's Salvage Yard was now a refuge for us all. A rusted wheelchair sits on the porch, reminding us all.

We cry for three days, a hollow ache in the pit of my stomach as I remember thefamily that didn't end with blood, and how they died. Defending the world.

We spend the fourth day building the funeral pyre, if only to give our hands something to do.

On the fourth night, they burn, taking their souls to somewhere else. I hope it's somewhere better, but who knows.

On the fifth day, it's like normal. Normal minus seven. I train like normal, running, fighting, reading. Everything that could help me get closer to the devil himself.

I stand with Castiel, watching the clean spring air blow gently across the yard.

'Can you change it?' I ask, and there is silence.

'Yes,' he answers finally. 'but think before you ask me to do what should never be done.'

I pause, considering the implications. Then I decide. If there is any chance, any at all, that can save them, I'll take it.

'Do it.'

--

Like I said, bear with me, it should start to make sense soonish.

I'll try and update soon!

A huge thanks to all the people who helped by creating OCs.

This fic is dedicated to Courtney, Mary, Laura and Bee, some of the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for.