Jus in Bello

Series: Supernatural Collar

Rating: 16+

Parings: none

Warnings: some blood, language, and violence

Summary: Neal Caffrey is brought to a little jail in some barely-on-the-map town after being caught by Peter Burke, and they find themselves in the middle of something… downright scary. Pre-series White Collar, crossover with Supernatural (season three).

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural, White Collar, or any of the characters or events associated with either show and no copyright infringement is intended. Amusement only, no profit made. Oh, I don't own some of the dialogue in this fic either –anyone who's seen Jus in Bello will know what dialogue I'm talking about.

Author's Note:

Pre-Series White Collar

Season Three Supernatural

This is going to be the first in a mini-series of one-shots all planned to be 5,000 words or more.

I doubt that events will be in order (IE as appeared/happened in the show) so any suggestions on episodes you would like to see (or see combined) are welcome. You might also see some AU stuff (in the sense that it's similar to the shows but not 100% the same.)

Should have another one shot to post next week before I leave for vacation, but PLEASE leave suggestions so I have more things to work on to add!

Just FYI I have Folsom Prison Blues, Free to Be (You and Me), and Exile on Main Street written up (and almost ready to go – they will be posted in that order unless suggestions turn up.)

All works will be Neal/WC point of view.

Enjoy!

Hint: Reviews, even without suggestions, and appreciated!

Word Count: 7,652

Pages: 24

Neal Caffrey swung his foot so that his heel tapped the metal frame of the bed he was currently lounging on. There wasn't much else to do in the tiny cell, in the tiny sheriff's office, in the tiny po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately he was stuck there with his "escort", waiting for federal "back-up" so he could be "safely transported" back to the city.

Aforementioned escort was FBI Agent Peter Burke, who had also been the one to catch him after a good two years of playing cat-and-mouse. The agent had long since left when it became clear that a bored Neal Caffrey was an (even more) annoying Neal Caffrey. Which left Neal with nothing to do but swing his foot back and forth, hoping for someone to come back to entertain him and wishing that he could find a way out.

Unfortunately for Neal the agent knew him well enough to put him in a small cell at the far end of the holding room – which had only one exit/entrance that Neal was sure as being guarded religiously. The windows in these particular cells where barely big enough to poke your head through, and the glass was probably bullet proof to prevent them from being broken. The ventilation shaft was in the aisle with the air grates aimed at the cells, and not actually in them, so there was no form of escape there either. And the pretty receptionist, Nancy, hadn't even so much as peeked in at him so there was no chance of sweet-talking her into helping him.

Neal must have dozed off at some point, boredom finally getting the best of him, because the next thing he knew the doors at the end of the hall had swung open with a bang and he jumped. He cringed inwardly when he saw a stern looking African American man wearing a blue and yellow FBI jacket stride in followed by the harried looking sheriff. Not wanting to be caught unawares by yet another agent of the law, he stood up.

The drunkard that had been sleeping it off in the first cell was released after a few heated words between the new agent and the sheriff, and then the agent zeroed in on him. "Who's this?" Neal perked up, seeing an opportunity for escape in this clueless agent striding towards him.

"Uh, he's in the custody of another agent." The sheriff said with a shrug. "I really don't know about releasing this one. From what I hear he's pretty, uh, big stuff." The pair stopped in front of Neal's cell and Neal shot the agent a beaming grin.

"Big stuff? How kind of you, sheriff. But come on, man, you let that other guy go and I bet a drunk would do more damage than little old me. Have it in you to spare me, too?" The guy narrowed his eyes, studied him, and then finally motioned for the sheriff to open the cell door. Neal beamed.

"Hold it!" But before the sheriff could even touch the door, Agent Burke appeared.

"Crap." Neal mumbled, slumping a bit in resignation as Peter angrily stormed over to the small group. There went his brilliant escape plan.

"Who do you think you are, releasing my prisoner?" Burke got right up in this new guy's face, sending him reeling back a few paces in surprise. "Do you even know who you almost just let out?"

"Who the hell are you?" The new agent finally seemed to gather himself and pushed right back. Neal wondered if maybe he was about to witness a brawl between the two. He had to bite his lip to ward off a laugh as he imagined what his friend (and partner in crime) would do if he where there to witness to such an event. Probably grab some popcorn, or maybe a glass of wine, and settle down to enjoy the show.

"Agent Peter Burke, FBI, White Collar division out of New York City. And that's my prisoner you where about to carelessly release." Burke introduced, flipping out his wallet to show the man his badge and narrowing his eyes.

"Okay. Look, Agent Burke, I understand your… distress but the guys I'm bringing in are extremely dangerous. If I had it any other way, we would be going straight to SuperMax." The new agent said imperiously. "I don't feel comfortable having them around anyone else, even other criminals. No, especially other criminals."

"Well then we've got a problem because there's no way I'm letting you release Caffrey, and there's no way he's staying anywhere other than in that cell. Who are you, anyway?"

"Agent Victor Henrickson, major crimes department our of D.C.." Out came the new guys badge and the agents eyed each other some more, chests puffed out like roosters about to go at it.

"We have quite the dilemma, here." Neal commented, interrupting what he could only refer to as the pissing match. "Well I could always solve this for you – just let me go, yeah?" Neal suggested brightly. Peter Burke merely rolled his eyes in response.

"You be quiet." He said sternly, as if talking to a dog. Neal pouted.

"Look, I've been after these guys for a long time." Henrickson said, reclaiming Burke's attention. "We're investigating them for murder, arson, insurance fraud, credit card fraud, and of all things grave desecration, grave robbery, and other creepy assed things… You name it they've probably done it." Henrickson eyed Neal speculatively. "It would be best for all members involved if this guy could just disappear."

"Look, I appreciate that your guys are dangerous. I do. Murder is no laughing matter. And everything else is just plain sick." Neal couldn't help but nod in agreement. "And any other time I would help you out. But this guy has been on the run for years as well. He's non violent, but he's connected to the loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars related to bond forgery – and if I could pin it on him, he's suspected of art forgery and theft as well as handling stolen merchandise. We're talking millions of dollars. Not to mention he's a damn escape artist, this is the first time I've had him where I want him. If I let him go it might be years before I catch him again." Neal beamed with pride.

"Or you might never catch me again." He added helpfully. Burke narrowed his gaze in agitation and Neal figured now would be a good time to shut up. The agents eyed each other.

"All right. We'll have to work together on this, I suppose." Henrickson said, turning to the sheriff. Burke immediately relaxed, pissing match over, and Neal had to chase away the mental image of him pocketing a ruler. "Go tell my men to bring them in." The sheriff skittered off; probably glad to be away from the two agents. Neal watched him go longingly. "I'm suggesting leaving one of my men at the door back there. Close enough to keep an eye on them." Neal heard the 'but far enough away for them to think they're safe to talk' in there. Crafty. Very crafty. But if these guys where as dangerous as Henrickson was saying, Neal doubted they where dumb enough to say anything incriminating.

"That's fine by me. I might take advantage of that and grab some coffee after you get your suspects situated, if you don't mind. I've been up since early this morning and they ran out of coffee here a while back. Didn't want to leave him in this building with just the sheriff." Burke finally said. Henrickson nodded once.

"I'll have some, too, if you're going on a coffee run." Neal said, leaning on the bars of the cell. Both agents ignored him so he slumped in defeat. Then he meandered back to the tiny single bed, bare of any blankets or sheets. With a grimace of distaste he let himself fall onto it, grunting at the hardness. He crossed his hands as best he could while cuffed behind his head and let his eyes drift half shut. Burke and Henrickson muttered back and forth a little bit until the doors opened again.

He watched curiously as two men – one outrageously tall and one about his height if not slightly shorter – where escorted in. Their ankles where bound together by a full set of leg chains that where short enough to prevent running and kicking out. Another length of chain linked them together by said ankle chains. Their hands where cuffed in front of them, a stupid move in Neal's opinion considering any self respecting criminal could easily pick the cuffs in that position if given the opportunity.

The two where shuffled – rather pathetically, Neal might add - into the open cell directly across from Neal and the door slammed shut with a bang. Henrickson shot a smug look into the cell, and it was promptly ignored by the duo. "You behave." Burke said to him, making Neal cock an eyebrow and grin. Then they where gone, walking together like they where good friends and hadn't just nearly gotten into a fistfight over their criminal charges.

One of the small town cops situated himself by the door as they left. Neal made his way to the front of the cell and watched as the two young men shuffled around, muttering curses and tripping over the chains until they both sat on the single bed. "How the hell are we going to Houdini out of this one?" The shorter of the pair asked lowly. The other one shrugged.

"Are you really in for murder?" Neal asked curiously. The one sitting closer to the cell door, the shorter one, glanced up in surprise.

"It's a long – and not very believable – story kid." He eventually said in a tired, worn out tone of voice. Neal tilted his head slightly. He spent a few minutes studying the pair closely as they mumbled on and off.

The way they where sitting and interacting told him volumes – close together, alert, in sync. They where very close to one another. Minor physical similarities indicated relatives of some sort. Brothers, or maybe close cousins. The taller one was, surprisingly enough, likely the younger of the pair judging by the way he was tucked protectively back from the front of the cell.

Even though they seemed to be on edge, ready for anything, nothing about them screamed 'murderer' to him. Neal prided himself on being a very sound judge of character. He had to be when dealing with other criminals, fences, and people who would just as rather shoot you as they would complete a deal. Some people where just greedy, wanting both product and cash. These two, despite the tightly wired body language that just screamed 'don't mess with me', just didn't seem like the cold-blooded murdering type.

Neal didn't try to engage them in conversation again, even though he caught the younger of the two shooting him curious glances every so often. He sat back on the single bed and waited, watching as the pair shifted until they too where comfortable. Eventually Henrickson re-appeared and stopped in front of their cell, his back tilted towards Neal slightly. Dismissing him, for the most part.

"Sam and Dean Winchester. It's been a long time, boys." The older of the pair made a face and eventually retorted:

"Not long enough."

"You know what I'm trying to decide?" Henrickson continued as if the other man hadn't said anything.

"Whether or not cialis will help you with your little condition?" They nudged one another and Neal held back a snicker. Definitely brothers.

"What to have for dinner tonight: steak or lobster. Or what the hell: surf and turf." Neal grimaced. There must have been bad blood between this agent and the duo, because the man's tone was downright chilly. Peter Burke had never spoken like that to him. Taunted, yes, but never outright cruel. "I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains…" But then again, if these guys did everything this agent accused them of – which Neal doubted – then maybe he had reason to be so cruel.

"You kinky son-of-a-bitch!" The older one wrinkled his nose. "We don't swing that way." Henrickson made a little face and Neal smirked. Score one for the Winchesters.

"Now, that's funny."

"You know, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. Couldn't catch us at the bank, couldn't keep us in that jail." Henrickson made a face that Neal interpreted as 'wounded pride' and anger before smoothing over. Winchesters two, Henrickson zero. Neal felt the need to introduce himself to them properly when the agent left.

"You're right. Screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn't count on you being that smart but now I'm ready."

"Yeah, ready to lose us again?"

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a Super Maximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me… probably unconstitutional." Neal shivered at the thought. "How's that for ready?" He suddenly grinned, almost evilly, and Neal felt slightly uncomfortable. "Take a good look at Sam; you two will never see each other again." Neal watched as the pair immediately sobered. Score one for Henrickson "Where's that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it."

"You got the wrong guys." The older one was Dean, then, Neal thought.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all, that's reality." Neal watched as the taller of the two, Sam, who had been slumped back, straightened and they leaned forward in unison. Their faces where carefully masked in cold anger and Neal could see why they could be taken for murderers. But Henrickson was out of line, there, and Neal gave the man a glare of his own.

"You sick son of a bitch." Dean said lowly. He was interrupted by a loud whirring sound and Henrickson merely grinned. The Winchesters glanced at the window and Neal recognized the sound of a helicopter just as a bright light shone in the tiny window.

"That would be your ride. Enjoy your last few minutes together, boys." Then Henrickson was gone. Once he was sure Henrickson was gone Neal stood and approached the bars, just as the pair stood up themselves. He had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen in the near future.

"What a dick." Dean muttered. "Well got any ideas, geek boy?" Sam shook his shaggy head helplessly.

"This window is too small and they'd be able to see us if we tried. Even if we could get out and get the cuffs off, we'd likely be gunned down before we could get very far."

"I could get the cuffs off of you if you can't pick them. Cuffs and restraints are sort of a specialty of mine." Neal offered, catching their attention. "I should even be able to open the doors. The only problem is that guard - If we could get him to take off then we could possibly get up in the ventilation system and crawl out that way." He pointed out. The Winchester brothers looked a little stunned, but before they could comment they where interrupted by the door banging open.

Another agent, slightly balding and smiling even more smugly than Henrickson, strode down the aisle. This man made Neal's hackles rise rather unpleasantly as he came to a stop in front of the Winchesters. He completely ignored Neal as he spoke to the boys. "I've been waiting a long time for the two of you to come out of the woodwork." There was a moment of silence as the man just grinned. Then, before the Winchesters could say anything in response, he pulled out his gun.

Neal backpedaled away from the front of the cell in surprise and the man aimed the gun at Dean. There was a bang as the trigger was pulled and Neal flinched at Dean's pained yell, almost yelling himself as he hit the back wall. Sam moved quickly, almost too quickly for Neal to track with surprised eyes, and grabbed at the weapon. The pair wrestled through the bars for a few minutes, both trying to get control of the gun, before Sam began to chant.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta scoot. It's been real fun, fellas." And Neal watched in muted horror as the man's head slammed back and he screamed. Only, as he screamed a thick black smoke poured out and vanished up the ventilator shaft. The body fell limply and Sam stepped back, gun in hand. Neal blinked a few times, staring at the unmoving body. Before he could find his voice and ask what the hell had happened the sheriff, Henrickson, and Burke - along with the rest of the tiny police force – arrived with their guns drawn.

"Put the gun down!" Henrickson shouted after taking quick stock of the situation. Sam immediately assumed an un-threatening position, hands raised.

"Ok, wait - I didn't shoot him!" He said hastily as the weapons narrowed in on him.

"Get on your knees!" Henrickson growled.

"He shot me!" Dean cursed as Sam knelt and dropped the weapon out of the cell, speaking rapidly as he did so.

"Okay, okay, okay. Don't shoot. Please. Look. Here. Here." One of the cops grabbed at the gun. "We didn't shoot him. Check the body. There's no blood. We didn't kill him. Go ahead, check him." One of the cops checked over the agent's body and confirmed Sam's statement.

"No bullet wound."

"He's probably been dead for months." Neal took a shaky breath even as Dean sat up, clutching at his shoulder. Neal grimaced at the sight of the blood staining the leather jacket.

"What did you do to him?" Henrickson asked, gun unwavering.

"Nothing." Dean spat.

"Talk or I shoot." Even Burke frowned at that. It wasn't 'just' to shoot an unarmed man in a jail cell, suspect or not. Go Peter, Neal thought vaguely.

"They're telling the truth." Neal finally managed to pipe up, not moving from where he was plastered to the back of the cell. Burke eyed him suspiciously but must have read the honesty in his terrified gaze because he nodded minutely.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you what really happened." Dean finally said. Henrickson gave them a look even as everyone else holstered their weapons. "He was possessed." The man snorted. But before anyone could say anything else, there was a loud boom and the building shook. Everyone ducked down as if expecting the building to collapse on them, and even the Winchesters looked genuinely shocked.

"Dammit! Now what?" Henrickson pulled out his walkie as one of the deputies raced out of the holding area to investigate. Neal hesitantly made his way to the front of the cell as the agent tried to rouse someone on the walkie. All Neal could hear was garbled static.

"That isn't good." Burke said softly. Henrickson turned to the brothers as something finally came over the walkie. It sounded like 'explosion' and 'dead'. Neal gulped.

"What's the plan?" Henrickson asked harshly. "Kill everyone in the station? Bust you two out?" The genuine looks of anger and shock on their faces where enough to convince Neal that this hadn't been planned.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked in concern and anger.

"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about the blood bath." Henrickson waved towards the window. The brothers frowned.

"Okay, I promise you that whoever's out there is not here to help us." Dean said wryly.

"Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger." Sam spoke up. Neal felt the need to tell the idiot agents to listen to the guy, but Burke gave him a look – the man had to be psychic to be able to know instinctively when Neal was about to speak - and he kept his mouth shut.

"You think?"

"Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses?" Dean finally snapped.

"From what?" They stayed quiet as Henrickson snarled. "You gonna say 'demons'? Don't you dare say 'demons'. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me." Then he turned to his men and the remaining officers and they stalked out angrily. After a few seconds and a long measuring look, Burke followed. Neal turned to the Winchesters.

"That… before. What you where saying. It was Latin, right?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah." Dean answered shortly.

"So, that guy was really possessed?" He purposely avoided looking at the body that had been dragged away from them. "I though demons and possession where a myth." He said shakily. The Winchesters glanced up at him in surprise.

"What do you know about demons?" Sam asked curiously.

"You hear about things in the underground. Demons are a popular topic, but I thought people where being metaphorical when they gossiped about it." Neal said weakly. "You know, like 'something possessed me to do it' and all that. I didn't really figure that it was literal. Rather, I had my suspicions but didn't want to believe it."

"Underground?"

"You don't think I'm in here because I'm an upstanding citizen, do you?" Neal asked with a grin, rattling his own handcuffs. "So that thing you didn't think I would believe. This it?" The two nodded. "How do YOU know about them, then?"

"We hunt the supernatural. Keep people safe." Dean said. "Family business, I guess. Sometimes we have to do illegal shit when we hunt – as you already heard, I'm sure." Neal nodded. "Well I'm Dean and that's my brother Sam." Neal nodded, puffing up a little bit at having been able to put the pieces together early on.

"Neal Caffrey." He offered.

"Wait, the art forger?" Sam asked. Neal did a little mock bow.

"Alleged." Neal corrected automatically. This earned him an impressed look from Sam and a confused look from Dean. "They got me on bond forgery, though, not art forgery." Neal explained.

"Bond forgery?" Dean finally asked. "Well huh." Suddenly Sam tilted his head at something and Neal turned to see the receptionist, Nancy, standing there. The cop guarding the door was gone.

"Hey." Sam said in a soothing voice that made even Neal calm down somewhat. Damn this guy was good – he could switch between cold and calculating to pleasant and soothing in a second. "Uh, please. We need your help. It's… its Nancy, right? Nancy, my brother's been shot. He's bleeding. You think maybe you could get us a towel? Just one clean towel? We're not the bad guys. I swear." The girl disappeared without saying a word and Sam looked frustrated.

"Are you okay?" Neal finally asked Dean. Before Dean could answer the girl returned with a white towel. Neal watched as the towel was handed over and his eyebrow cocked when he saw Sam's fingers deftly and easily swipe the rosary around the girl's wrist. She disappeared and Sam turned to Dean.

"Damn. Yeah, I'll be fine. Just a flesh wound that hurts like a bitch." Neal winced as the younger brother pushed the towel to Dean's wound and stayed quiet as they tried to stop the bleeding. The rosary was tossed into the toilet and Neal refrained from making a comment. Good thing because seconds later a very freaked out sheriff was bursting through the door and rushing down the aisle to open their cell door.

"It's time to go, boys." Almost immediately Dean was standing next to Sam as if he hadn't been shot, and they where backing away from the man.

"Uh… you know what? We're just comfy right here. But thank you." Dean said. Neal glanced to the doors as Henrickson appeared to stalk down to their cell. Neal felt his hackles rise as the man passed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Henrickson snarled.

"We're not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We're gonna make a run for it." The sheriff said.

"It's safer here." Henrickson said.

"There's a SWAT facility in Boulder." The sheriff said. Then Neal jumped back a few feet as Henrickson pulled his gun, aimed, and fired a bullet right into the man's head before anyone could move. Neal gagged as what had to be brain matter and bone splattered out behind the man. He felt some blood splash him.

"We're not going anywhere." Henrickson snarled. The sheriff slumped to the ground, dead, and Neal felt his stomach twist sickeningly. Very briefly Neal saw the man's eyes flash black but then Sam and Dean where moving as one despite the chains. They wrestled Henrickson over to the toilet. Neal finally backpedaled to the back of his cell as they gave the agent what had to be the world's biggest swirly and Sam began to chant in Latin.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, Ergo draco maledicte et section"

"It's too late, I already called them!" Henrickson said in a snarl as they pulled him up. "They're already coming!" He was dunked again.

"Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos." Sam finished. A few minutes later Neal watched as a mass of black smoke similar to what he saw before poured from the guy's mouth. Henrickson slumped back and Sam and Dean jumped away as the cops and Nancy arrived.

"Is he… dead?" Nancy asked even as the cops drew their weapons. Then Henrickson coughed and sputtered to Neal's relief – two people collapsing dead in front of him was more than enough to witness in a lifetime, let alone in one day.

"Henrickson, hey, is that you in there?" Sam asked after Henrickson pulled himself up.

"I… I shot the sheriff." Henrickson finally said stupidly.

"But you didn't shoot the deputy." Neal almost laughed out loud even as Sam shot his brother an exasperated look.

"Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…" Henrickson said shakily.

"Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"You were possessed." Sam supplied.

"Possessed like… possessed?"

"That's what it feels like. Now you know." Henrickson looked pale.

"I owe you the biggest "I told you so" ever." Dean finally said. Henrickson merely swallowed, eyes wide. "Now can you let us out of these chains so we can, oh, help save your asses?" Neal nodded frantically even though no one was looking at him.

Henrickson immediately began releasing them from the chains and soon they where standing free as Neal cowered on the back wall of the cell. "Him too." He blinked in surprise as Sam stopped everyone from leaving. Then Burke was there, eyes hard, standing in their way.

"This guy really IS a criminal. I can't let you release him."

"He isn't going to run." Sam argued. "We can't leave him sitting there like bait, he'll be safer with us. Plus he looks like he's in shock. He just saw a cop get his brains splattered all over a prison cell and he'd covered in blood." Neal wanted to agree, but he stayed quiet and wiped at his face. Yep, blood. The cell door was finally opened and Neal jumped. Burke was in front of him in a flash.

"Snap out of it, Neal." The cuffs where removed. "Come on." Neal willingly followed the fed out of the cell, eyes avoiding the bloody mess that was once the sheriff. He was silent as they made their way out to the lobby, where everyone crowded around the desks. Sam silently handed him a towel and Neal scrubbed the blood off of his face, neck, and hands.

"So demons are real." Henrickson finally said. "And that thing said it called more of them. So we're going to need all the firearms and weapons we can find." Neal cringed.

"They won't do any good." Dean said quickly. "It's like poking a bear with a BB gun – it'll just piss them off even more." Henrickson frowned. "We need salt – lots and lots of salt."

"Salt. We're going to – and I can't believe I'm saying this – fight off demons with salt?" Burke asked incredulously. Neal couldn't help but agree with his incredulity a little bit, but he figured that these guys would know what they where talking about.

"I vote we listen to the demon hunters." He said softly, quickly.

"Salt is pure – it drives evil forces away, including demons." Sam explained. "If you make a circle of it and step inside, or put it in front of doors or windows, then a demon or ghost won't be able to get you. Throw stuff at you, sure, but they can't physically cross the barrier." He continued. "It isn't a permanent safety, unless it's literally installed in the woodwork of a building, but it helps in some situations and can slow them down."

"We're going to need stuff from the Impala – where's my car?" Neal tucked himself in one of the rolling chairs next to Nancy, feeling very out of his league in this. He let the agents, cops, and hunters duke out what would happen next and tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths. One day he would have to thank Mozzie for teaching him about relaxation breathing techniques. "Okay," Dean's voice caught his attention. "So I'll run and get some things from the car – you guys take care of finding salt and spray paint."

"There's some road salt in the storage room." Nancy offered.

"Salt all the windows and doors. Draw some traps by the doors leading out. And maybe the windows you think someone could fit through." There was a flurry of activity and Neal jumped as Sam suddenly stopped in front of him. The guy looked concerned as he paused.

"Hey, Neal, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess. Just not big on guns and violence and… well, anything that's been going on." Neal said softly. "Strictly white collar, here." Sam nodded.

"Why don't you come with me and Nancy to find the salt and some spray paint?" He suggested. "Something tells me these guys," He nodded at the agents. "Won't be very companionable." He said lowly.

"No way, he's not going anywhere." Burke spoke up from where he was talking with Henrickson. Neal pouted. He would almost rather be stuck with demons. But surprisingly Sam stuck up for him.

"There's an army of demons on the way, I seriously doubt he'll take off now. I'll keep an eye on him – we might need another hand with the salt. Besides, it isn't a good idea for him to just sit around and do nothing – he's still in shock and if he isn't distracted from it…"

"All right." Burke finally said. "Caffrey, you behave or so help me God…" Neal gave him an innocent look but hopped up to join Sam and Nancy.

"Thanks for not leaving me there with them." He said as he followed the pair to the storeroom, Nancy leading the way.

"Wouldn't do that to anyone." Sam replied. "They don't seem like terrible people, but they are Feds and they're not big on sympathy." Neal nodded in agreement. The storeroom Nancy led them to yielded several cans of spray paint and a few large bags of road salt. Neal grabbed a few of the bags, Sam the rest, and Nancy grabbed the cans. They returned to the desk area where Burke seemed to have been on high alert.

"Now what?" Nancy asked as they unloaded their burdens.

"Now we split up. We need to draw the traps by windows and doors leading out. Salt everything, too." Sam replied. "Neal, if I show you a picture could you replicate it?"

"Stupid question - he's an art forger. Of course he could." Burke chimed in.

"Alleged." Neal corrected with a pout. But Sam wasn't listening, already drawing a crude symbol on a scrap of paper. Neal examined it and nodded. "I can do it."

"Good. I'll go with Nancy and you can go with Agent Burke." Sam decided, shooting him an apologetic look. "Make sure to draw that big enough that it covers a few inches past the ends of the door or window. And the salt needs to be laid in a single unbroken line a couple inches across."

"Right." Neal nodded. Burke immediately glued himself to Neal's side, grabbing a couple of bags of salt. He and Sam studied the layout of the building, which was to their relief only one story. Sam and Nancy would cover the one side, he and Burke the other. They split up, leaving Henrickson behind to wait for Dean.

Neal walked quickly as they made their way to the first window. Before starting, Neal turned to Burke with a serious expression. "Look, this is bigger than either of us." He said quietly. "I propose a truce until we get out of here alive – I won't do anything to try to escape and you don't shoot me."

"I wouldn't shoot you." Burke finally said. "But yeah, I agree. Deal with this, but Caffrey – I'm still bringing you in. No trying to escape until we're actually out of here and safe." Neal nodded and they shook hands in agreement.

From then on they worked in silence, as a team. Neal painted and Burke laid salt lines. They covered one end to the other and eventually met up with Sam and Nancy. When they finally reached the desk area they saw Dean and the deputy was back in once piece, and a pile of weapons was laid out on the table.

"There's a whole horde of them." Dean said. "I could see the smoke. They should be here any…" The building shuddered and the lights went out. "Minute." Dean finished lamely. Neal cringed away from the weapons even as the wind howled. Maybe it was the demons.

"Everyone should wear one of these." Sam said as he picked up a pouch. Charms where handed out. "They protect you from possession."

"What about you?" Henrickson asked. Both pulled a corner of their shirts down to reveal an intricate tattoo. "Nice. How long did you have those?"

"Not long enough." Sam said softly. Neal quickly pulled the charm necklace on. "Each of you should have a weapon – we might be able to hold them off. The salt rounds won't hurt the humans, but the demons might flee." Neal hesitantly took the gun and extra rounds Dean passed him.

"You know how to use that?" Burke asked suddenly. Neal nodded.

"Not liking and not knowing how aren't the same." Neal replied unhappily. Before Burke could comment there was a loud crack. Broken glass. Immediately everyone was on the move and Neal followed the group to find a blond standing in one of their traps. Neal felt his hackles rise again.

"How do we kill her? It?" Henrickson asked, raising his weapon automatically.

"We don't." Sam said softly.

"She's a demon!" Henrickson pointed out.

"She's here to help us." Sam moved to let her out of the trap.

"And they say chivalry's dead." The blonde commented. "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here." Neal backed away as she pushed through the group.

"How many are out there?" Dean asked as they made their way back to the main room.

"Thirty. Maybe more." Dean swore as Neal took his seat next to Nancy.

"Oh, good. Thirty. Thirty hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?" Neal caught her surprised look towards Sam, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You didn't tell Dean?" Ruby asked. Dean shot a look at Sam. "Ooh, I'm surprised."

"Tell me what?"

"There's a big new up and corner. Real pied piper." Ruby said.

"Who is he?"

"Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith." Dean made a face. "And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. 'Cause she sees him as a competition." Neal shot a look to Sam, who now looked very guilty.

" You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else I should know?" Neal cringed along with Sam at Dean's tone.

"How about the two of you talk about this later? We'll need the colt." Neal just looked confused, but when Sam and Dean say nothing Ruby spoke again. "Where's the colt?"

"It got stolen." Sam admitted.

"I'm sorry. I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands. Fantastic. This is just peachy…"

"Ruby…"

"Shut up." Neal shot a surprised look at Dean when the older Winchester didn't protest to being spoken down to like that. "Fine. Since I don't see that there's no other any option. There's one other way I know how to get you out of here alive."

"What's that?"

"I know a spell. It'll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Myself included. So, you let the colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How's that for a dying wish?" Neal cringed.

"Okay, what do we need to do?"

" Aww… you can't do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue." Neal immediately knew what she meant, and also knew he wasn't going to like what it would result in.

"I got virtue." Dean said with a grin.

"Nice try. You're not a virgin." Ruby said with a wry grin.

"Nobody's a virgin." Dean scoffs. Neal felt Nancy stiffen beside him and he let out a small groan. Then Ruby was looking at them – at Nancy. Dean blinked a few times in confusion, glanced at Sam, then back at Nancy.

"No. No way. You're kidding me. You're…"

"What? It's a choice, okay?"

"So, y-you've never… Not even once? I mean not even…" He got an amazed look on his face. "Wow…"

"So, this spell… what can I do?" Nancy asked.

"You can hold still while I cut your heart out of your chest." Ruby said as she hopped up. Immediately Neal stood as well and got in front of Nancy.

"What?" Nancy squeaked behind him.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"No more killing." Neal agreed.

"I'm offering a solution."

"You're offering to kill somebody."

"And what do you think is gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?"

"We're gonna protect her. That's what." Neal nodded in agreement. An argument then proceeded to break out, everyone arguing for one thing or another. Nancy stepped around Neal.

"Would everybody please shut up?" Everyone fell silent. "All the people out there… will it save them?"

"It'll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay… yeah." Neal shook his head in horror as Nancy stared determinedly at Ruby.

"I'll do it." And then chaos. Neal slid back as everyone started arguing. Ruby was also quiet, slightly amused as Sam and Dean argued with Nancy and Henrickson and Burke argued with both them AND Nancy.

"Back in the day, a little virgin sacrifice meant nothing." Ruby commented. Neal jumped as she appeared next to him. "You're not like them."

"I prefer my crimes and action to be less… bloody and final." Neal said with a gulp. Eventually everyone stopped arguing when Dean finished with a:

"It doesn't mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let you that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win." Everyone was silent.

"So what then?" Ruby asked mockingly.

"We open the doors. Let them in. Fight." Neal didn't like the sound of that either, but he stayed silent and Ruby was escorted from the building with a withering look. Neal reluctantly joined the group gathered around Dean, tucking in next to Burke of all people.

"Don't touch my wallet." Burke mumbled half-heartedly. Just because he could and because he couldn't stop himself, Neal quietly lifted the man's wallet and pocketed it without even twitching do much as a muscle on his face. He always did pickpocket more when he was stressed.

"Okay, here's the plan." Dean announced. "We need to get all these demons INSIDE so we can trap them and exorcise them." Complete and total silence.

"Okay. Elaborate." Burke said.

"We open the front and back doors." Dean said. "Then we let them in. Lure them in here, t the center of the building. Some of us go outside and close the doors when we're sure everyone is inside. RE-set the salt lines from the outside. When we're sure we're good, someone can read the exorcism ritual over the loudspeakers."

"That… doesn't sound like a half bad plan." Henrickson finally said. The deputy nodded shakily.

"Then because it sounds like Lilith is behind all this, you guys get the hell out and Sam and I go after the bitch." Dean concluded. "So, sound like a plan?"

An hour later Neal and Nancy crept out of the building and hid themselves amongst the impounded cars. Neal caught sight of the big black Impala that belonged to the Winchester brothers and took a second to admire it. But then the police center door swung open, distracting him.

It didn't even occur to him that now would be an excellent opportunity to escape. Well, not for more than a few seconds. He had Burke's wallet, complete with a hundred bucks after all. Then he shook his head. He may be a criminal, but he wouldn't run from a situation where he was needed. Period.

He and Nancy watched as the demons rushed into the building. First one or two, then a couple more, then the rest followed. They waited a few minutes to see if any more popped up but none did. They rushed to slam the front door closed and lay down the salt line. Then they ran around to the back, checking for demons before closing that door as well.

As they where laying down the line Neal felt a solid object run into the door and he was thrown backwards. A tall man exited, eyes pitch black. He locked gazes with Neal, and then bolted as Neal got up to close the door again. He helped Nancy with the salt, his torn palms stinging a bit. They stepped back.

As they kept watch they could hear gunshots from inside, then finally they heard Sam's muffled voice speaking bits and pieces of the exorcism. Neal watched in awed horror as several vortexes of smoke spiraled out of the building – one spiraling out to knock them over – to eventually congeal in one giant mass of black. Then with a crack of light, it all disappeared.

"I'm so going out and having lots and lots of sex later." Nancy mumbled from beside him. Neal glanced at her with a wry grin. The back door opened and Sam stepped out.

"You guys okay?" He helped Nancy to her feet but just as he turned to help Neal a blur shot past them – Neal grimaced as Agent Burke none-to-gently helped him roll over and pinned him to the ground. "Is that really necessary?" Sam asked as Burke cuffed him. Again.

"He's been un-cuffed for too long already." Burke said as he helped Neal to his feet. Neal shrugged at Sam as the rest of the group joined them. "And on that note, I think I'm going to take my chances with him in my car."

"You're taking off." Henrickson nodded. "We'll clean up here, come up with some way to get these two out of FBI scrutiny." Neal longingly wished that he, too, could be out from under the microscope but accepted that it wouldn't happen. Unlike the Winchester brothers, he was actually guilty of his crimes.

"Under any other circumstance it would have been a pleasure to meet you." Burke said as the agents shook hands. Burke even shook Sam and Dean's hands, and nodded to the remaining officer and Nancy. Without a word Neal deftly picked the cuffs and extended his hand to Sam and Dean.

"Thanks." Was all he said. Burke was shocked for the few seconds it took Neal to say goodbye, and Sam and Dean both grinned when Neal deftly replaced the cuffs with his hands in front of him this time before Burke could say anything. With an irritated mutter Burke grabbed at his arm and Neal let him pull him to the car park, where Burke's car was parked safely away from the ruins of the helicopter.

As he was pushed into the car he glanced back to see the small group watching them. He lifted a hand to wave and grinned when they waved back. Even Henrickson. "God what a week." Burke said as they pulled away from the precinct. "And you better keep your mouth shut, hands to yourself, and so help me God if you bug me…"

"No bugging, got it." Neal agreed. Then he couldn't help himself. "Charming photo by the way – your wife looks absolutely wonderful." There was a curse as Burke shifted in the drivers seat, patting his pockets.

"Caffrey! Give me back my wallet!"

END