"There's only one outpost Neville could be going to that's around here." Sam pointed on the map to a red dot. "Noblesville. The latest out of there says that they've got a steam engine on the tracks, and have been clearing a way out to Philly since last winter. I'll bet anything that's where they're shipping Danny."
Dean considered the map thoughtfully, and then it occurred to him. "Okay, so Danny's part of this big conspiracy or whatever, I don't care. If Neville's got our dad with him, why bother using up guards shipping him to Philly? He'd probably just leave him in Noblesville for sentencing, or whatever."
"What I'm wondering is why he didn't do that before." Miles said. "Since it sounds like a whole lot of trouble to keep this John Winchester a prisoner. They passed enough outposts."
"Hey, Dean, think Dad kept his crucifix on 'im?"
"Maybe, why?"
"Well, I know a lot of militias are really into religion. I don't know how that would affect things."
"What's this about a cross?" Nora said.
"Our dad's an ordained priest. So are we, for all that's worth. We learned most of our sermons from Pastor Jim. Maybe Dad preached them into letting him go." Sam was smiling at the thought. With their people so close, it seemed everyone's spirits were up.
"Could be. I know Tom Neville. He's not the type to drag just anyone around after them, even for the prestige. What kind of priest carries as many weapons as you two, anyway? What was your father doing so far outside the Plains Station? I can't believe he was just looking for a stupid gun."
"That's none of your business." Dean growled. "But the gun is important to us. It's almost worthless to anyone else."
Miles gave up. "Whatever. We need to move on before it gets dark."
"What's that sound?" Charlie said, swinging her torch around. Miles went to toss his at the source, when Sam put a hand on his arm.
Sam held a finger up to his lips, and took the torch. As Miles' eyes adjusted to the new darkness, he saw the vague dark shapes of a few dogs gathered around... a carcass of some kind.
"What is it?" Charlie said, whispering but her voice still too loud.
Miles shook his head, miming for her and everyone else to shut up. They went slowly, carefully down the street, until finally Aaron exhaled heavily and said, "Oh god, I thought we were gonna - "
Dean appeared among them from seemingly out of nowhere, bleeding. "Not out of the woods yet. I just killed their master. Bastard tried ambushing me. Sammy, come with me. I want to see what supplies he's got. Never pass up easy food. You guys go on, we'll catch up."
They made it to the outskirts of Lowell without running into any more of the dogs, and while Miles was all for trying to leave the Winchesters behind, Charlie wouldn't hear of it. So when the two came back, they were just setting up camp, late into the night.
"I want to move out early tomorrow." Miles said. "Get to Noblesville around nightfall, scout it out. Should have Danny and your father out within two days, best case scenario."
"Things very rarely go the way of the best case scenario." Dean snorted, pointing at Sam. "Case in point."
Sam glared at Dean and unfolded a puppy from his jacket. It was some kind of mix breed, black, white, brown, and gray, with icy blue eyes and huge paws. It yawned, showing off shiny white teeth, and blinked around the fire.
"It would have died, Dean." Sam said, feeding the puppy small strips of beef jerky and trying to get it to drink from his canteen. Most of the water went into Sam's lap, but evidently it satisfied the puppy.
"We cannot be taking care of - fine, you know what, go ahead. If it gets killed, it's on you." Dean grimaced and poked the fire with a half-blackened stick, sending up sparks.
"Anyway," Miles said. "There's enough of us to pair up to search the town. I say, Nora and Charlie, Dean and Aaron, Sam and Maggie. I'll go alone."
"No, I'll go alone." Nora said. "I want to look up the rebel den in town. You can go with Charlie."
"Eh, not that I don't see the wisdom in pairing up the more experienced guys with the less experienced ones, but don't you think it'd be better to leave the other two somewhere safe?" Dean looked pointedly at Maggie and Aaron. "I work better with Sammy anyway."
Maggie stood abruptly. "I am not defenseless." She spat. "I am tired of you people constantly insinuating that I cannot protect myself just because I do not jump at the chance to kill every time it is put in front of me. I walked from Seattle to the East coast before the militias ever got their act together. I didn't do that by hiding every time I heard a noise."
Miles shushed her loudly, but Maggie was not having it. "I am tired of you ordering us around - "
"Maggie, shut up, I hear something."
Silence fell abruptly, the only noise the crackling fire and the cicadas.
"What did you hear?" Dean asked.
"A snap and then a thump. Someone stepped on a twig and stepped off real quick."
Sam's puppy whuffed quietly, catching on to the tension in the atmosphere. Dean saw it staring fixedly at the same area of the trees that Miles had his ear turned to.
He caught Miles' eye and motioned toward it. Nora slipped out of the camp, while Dean said in a normal tone of voice, "Musta been one of the horses. Impala walks around during the night."
"Yeah, that must have been it." Miles let a light note of suspicion creep into his voice.
"What are you gonna name that dog?" Charlie asked Sam, changing the subject. She was talking just a little too loud.
Sam lifted the dog's front paws. "It's a girl, so I'm thinking - "
A clatter from the woods. Dean, Sam, Miles, and Charlie leapt to their feet, rushing to the source. It was Nora, mostly pinned by the militia boy but still holding her own.
Miles hauled him off of the woman by the shoulders, spilling him towards Sam and Dean. Nate was back up on his feet in an instant, but not fast enough, and he wasn't nearly skilled enough to hold off either brother alone. They had him pinned in moments, Dean pulling out zipties for his wrists.
"How long you been following us?" Miles demanded, helping Nora up.
Nate sneered. "The whole time. You're losing your touch, old man."
"We can tie him to Impala. She won't take any rider but me, and she's a good guard." Dean suggested. He hooked a finger in the zipties around Nate's wrists and yanked him to his feet, ignoring the swearing protests. "We've also got some chains."
"How sure are you he can't steal your horse?" Charlie asked.
"Pretty damn certain. You can try it, if you want." Dean gave him a mean grin.
"I'm good, thanks."
Dean, smiling, put an arm around Charlie's shoulder as they strolled down the street. She looked shyly up at him, and he could see the warning in her eyes. His grin widened just a little, to let her know he wasn't really trying to make a move.
Maybe Sammy was having an easier time of it with Miles.
Probably not.
Dean wasn't happy with the way the grouping had worked out, but he agreed that Miles wouldn't very well pass as Charlie's boyfriend, and Sam was just a little too tall not to draw notice. Sam and Miles were scouting out watering holes, pretending to be travelers.
"Oh, look!" Charlie steered him towards a stall set up in front of an old firehouse. She pretended to pick through the small selection of jewelry there, giving Dean time and opportunity to look around without drawing attention. There was nothing on the street, and inside the firehouse there were a few militia men guarding the bazaar that had taken up shop inside the large fire engine garage.
Dean tapped Charlie's elbow, signaling her that this area was clear. She wrapped up her browsing, and they made a show of Dean leading her away from the stall, talking in a normal voice about not being able to afford such things.
"On my right." Charlie muttered, putting her mouth an intimate distance from his ear. Dean grinned like she was telling him something funny, something dirty. He half-turned to face her better, and his eyes flicked up. The man was easy to spot.
Dark skin, late forties or early fifties, lines in his face. Held himself not strictly like military, but like a man on the lookout. And something about him screamed of just barely repressed rage. This was a man that previous civilization had repressed, and who had flourished under the new rules.
"I believe that may be our Captain Tom Neville." Dean said, mouth hovering right over her forehead.
By mutual silent agreement they tailed him down the next two streets, including where he stopped to talk to what seemed to be the leader of the engineers working on the train.
"From what I can tell, they're not moving fast enough for Neville." Dean said.
"Still too fast for us."
Neville, after he moved away from the engineers, went down a lesser-traveled side street. They tailed him right up to the end, but when he turned the corner Dean stopped Charlie from following.
"What are you doing? He's getting away! He'll lead us right to Danny!" Charlie demanded, pulling at the hold he had on her arm.
"No, he'll get away and we'll have given up the element of surprise. Where he's going, there's no reason for our covers to be. He'll make us in half a second."
"Then we attack him. Two against one, he doesn't have a chance. He'll give up where Danny's being held."
"No he won't. I know men like Neville. He'll take great pleasure in keeping that information from us at all costs. He'll also have contingencies in place, in case he doesn't show. Danny will be moved without us knowing where he is, and we'll be too busy trying to get the intel out of Neville that we won't even notice."
Charlie gave a muffled scream of frustration, and punched Dean in the arm. He rubbed the spot but let her have it. He'd be going out of his mind with worry if it were Sammy who'd been taken, and he at least knew Sammy could take care of himself.
"So then what do we do?" Charlie demanded.
"We keep searching. Anyplace with a cell or a vault to hold a per..." Enlightenment dawned on Dean's face. "I wonder if this place has a bank."
They met up with Sam and Miles back at their makeshift base, where Aaron and Maggie were guarding Nate. Aaron was trickling water into the boy's mouth when Charlie threw the door open and went straight for her crossbow.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked.
Charlie huffed, all the energy suddenly going out of her. "I want to run in there and make them give him back. I know I can't, but just let me have this fantasy, okay?"
Dean shrugged. They'd found an entire squad of militia camped inside the bank, but Charlie hadn't gotten to see Danny. He was in there, though.
"I want to know the whole layout of that place before we go in. Floor plans, how many men they have. But there's no way..." Dean sighed.
"You guys find anything?" Sam came in, a lot more quiet than Charlie and Dean's entrance.
"They're holed up in the bank, but we don't know how many men or what the inside's like. It's a bank, so the most we can assume is that it was designed for security." Dean reported.
"Town hall and the police station burned down after the Blackout, so we aren't getting blueprints from there." Miles said, pulling up a crate to sit on. "Anyone seen Nora?"
"She left just after you guys. Said she wanted to blow up the train." Aaron said, coming out of the chain link fence they were keeping Nate behind.
"We gotta make sure Danny never gets to that train, then." Miles said. "She's not likely to come back to us. Damnit."
Dean smirked. "Your girlfriend's run out on you?"
"Not my girlf - you know what, this is off-topic. How are we going to get into the bank, find Danny and your father, and then get them both out alive?"
"And the Colt." Sam added.
"Would you shut up about that stupid Colt!" Charlie threw her hands up. "My god, you'd think it was as important as our people the way you two go on!"
They were both glaring at her. "That thing is more valuable than you will ever know."
"Focus!" Miles shouted, drawing all of their attention back on him. "We need a plan, and we need it before dark. That gives us a couple of hours, max. They'll be shipping out in two days, maybe less."
"We've got the vests. Against those old-time rifles, they'll stop a bullet from ten feet away." Dean put in, his voice quiet.
"We could create a distraction." Sam said. "An explosion from nearby but not too close. Draw some of them out and then go in."
"No, I don't want reinforcements coming up our asses while we're in the bank. But they will have to move them to get to the train, we could strike then. It's always easier in the open." Miles suggested.
"They'll only be moving Danny. Our dad will still be in the bank, with guards. Here, we do the distraction, draw out some of them. We ambush the ones outside, get rid of them. Then we wait. If more come out, we'll take those too. If they decide to stay holed up inside, we go in after them. They'll be on the alert, so we'll go in from a different route. From what we saw, there are buildings to either side of the bank, but the one on the left is close enough for somebody to jump the second floor windows. That's our entry point. We sweep down and out, clear them from behind while they're facing the doors. Crossbows and silent weapons only."
Miles regarded Dean, impressed in spite of himself. "Those are some good tactics." he said.
Dean didn't look at him. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna be leading the Plains Station someday. Gotta know this stuff."
"So is that the plan?" Charlie asked, looking around at them.
Miles nodded. "Yeah, I think it is. But we still need to chose the distraction, and the ambush point. And Maggie, Aaron, you get to prove that you can carry your own weight."
Aaron looked half-terrified at the thought, but Maggie picked up one of Sam and Dean's shotguns and racked it loudly, her expression grim. "Where do you want me?"
The bomb went off just after sunset, in the same area as the train. Twelve minutes later, a squad of six militia men came trooping down the grassy alley, following the column of smoke still going up. They found a woman standing in front of the smoke, a double-barreled shotgun in each hand.
"Drop 'em." she said quietly, just loud enough to be heard.
The lead man started to sneer at her, started to raise his own gun. Then he felt the cold iron barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of his neck.
"At this angle," a man's voice said, "It wouldn't kill you. You'd just be paralyzed. You'd bleed out, though, slowly. It's a very painful death."
The man swallowed audibly, raising his hand and dropping his rifle. His men did the same. Then the man started to get down on his knees, but Dean angled the gun to nudge him back up.
"Stay standing. Maggie, knife."
Maggie came forward, skirting the line of militia, and held out the knife at her hip.
"I'm gonna need you to do this for me." Dean said. He met her eyes briefly, not wanting to look away from their captives. "Can you?"
She didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Dean moved around to the front of the line, so that they could all see him. "So here's the deal: I don't want to kill you guys. You're just soldiers. You need to support your families back home, maybe. Or maybe you just enjoy causing pain, that's not really my call. But I can't just tie you up and let you go, because then you'll be able to come back and hurt more people, and fight me some day.
"Maggie's going to sever two of your tendons, each. Knees or wrists, I'll leave it up to you. It won't kill you, but even with an expert healer, you'll never run or fire a gun again. Or you could just die here, that's an option, too.
"You first." Dean motioned with the pistol to the farthest man to the left.
"Fuck you." The man spat.
"Maggie, both wrists. That was a bad choice, man, her knifework's not that great. You actually might die. Next."
Maggie went for his wrists with the knife, but he twisted and brought her up like a human shield, raising the knife to her throat. He started to say something, but it never came out. Dean fired, and the bullet ripped through his forehead.
"Don't try it again." Dean said. "Next."
"One of each?" The next man said.
He only screamed a little when Maggie drew the serrated blade across the back of his knee, and it was obviously automatic the way he tried to pull out of her grip on his wrist. He fell, trying to cradle both his wrist and knee at the same time.
"Why don't you just kill us?" That was their leader, up next.
"Okay." Dean said, firing again.
He didn't even have to ask the next man, who just blurted, "Knees."
The next one was "Left wrist, left knee," but Dean told Maggie his right wrist because his sword was sheathed on the left. The last man just spat on Maggie, and Dean said coldly, "Both wrists."
"This is what I get for trying to show a little mercy." Dean muttered as he finished tying up the still living men, and Maggie was done field-dressing their wounds. "Let's meet up with the others. Maybe they've caught a second team."
Charlie and Sam had indeed caught a second team, although this one was only four men. They were stationed closer to the bank, with Sam scouting ahead to run back with their route for an intercept.
"How many do you think are left in there?" Sam asked, a little out of breath. He'd just returned to the meet-up point, in the building next to the bank. There had been a group of young men living in the building, but they took one look at how their invaders were armed to the teeth and quietly fled for the night.
"Well, fast as they've been moving I'd guess there's no more than twenty to begin with." Dean said. "And I can't see them sending out that many people if their numbers are so low."
"We have to count any reinforcements they picked up here, though. There is a militia base in this town." Miles reminded them.
"But not run by Captain Neville. He might have borrowed a few men to guard his prisoners, but he doesn't have the entire squad. I'd say that leaves us with somewhere between ten and fifteen guards to kill. Does everybody have their weapons?"
Charlie lifted her crossbow in response to Dean's question, her other hand going to the hunting knife Sam and Dean had given her. Miles had two swords and some knives of his own. Sam and Dean were both fully armed for a normal hunt: crossbows, knives, machetes. Maggie had dripped some sort of poison on to two little knives that she strapped to her wrists, so that when she bent her hands back the blades were exposed. She had also wrapped her hands in straps of hard leather, to keep the knives from slicing up her own skin.
"Ready?" Miles asked. "Let's go."
The window wasn't made to be opened, but with a crowbar and enough leverage the whole construct went to pieces, the frame falling just a little before Sam caught the bottom corner with his foot, hanging between the two buildings.
"Someone get a hold of that." He suggested breathlessly, his hands slowly slipping from the ledge.
Dean, holding a rope around Sam's shoulders, passed it back to Miles and lunged for the window frame. He dragged it inside their building and let it thump to the floor.
"Alright, let's go."
Sam went all the way across, standing at the other side to help everyone else through. Miles went next, then Charlie and Maggie, and Dean was last. After that it was radio silence; they split up into their groups and began sweeping the second floor.
Dean and Sam met up with Maggie and Charlie at the stairs, where Miles was already waiting. He was kneeling, peering through to the first floor.
He looked back, flashing three fingers and pointing to the left of the bottom of the stairs, flashed another three and pointed to the right.
They nodded their understanding.
Miles went first, staying to the outside of the wooden staircase where it was less likely to creak. He tested each step, and sometimes seemed to avoid a spot for no reason at all. At one point he had to skip two steps entirely. When he reached the bottom, still utterly silent, he looked back up at them, pointed at his eyes, then his feet, and then traced a vague version of his path back up the stairs.
Dean turned to the others. He mouthed, barely breathing, "Follow his steps exactly. If you can't remember, I'm going next. Don't make a sound."
Dean, with the path already forged, was able to make it down much faster. He and Miles waited until Sam was down before going left to deal with the sleeping soldiers on that side. In unison they poised knives above the men's eyes and stabbed, covering their mouths and holding down their limbs. Death was very quick as the knives sliced up into the brain, and absolutely quiet.
Dean jerked his head, and they went to take care of the next group.
When they were done, there was a quiet sound of distress. They all looked, and in the darkness they saw that a man had Maggie from behind, and was having a difficult time covering her mouth. She'd already stabbed his wrist with her poison blades, but it was taking a few seconds to work.
Dean went for his gun, but Miles was faster. His knife flipped perfectly, the heavy hilt striking the man in his exposed cheekbone. He staggered back, stunned and bleeding, and Charlie was there, jumping the last four stairs to land on his shoulders and waist, her knife burrowing into his shoulder muscle near the neck.
The man screamed.
It was a strangled thing, ending abruptly in a gurgle as Maggie drew both her knives over his throat.
"Pretty sure they heard that." Miles said in a normal tone of voice. "Guns now, don't hesitate, shoot to kill."
They split up again into two groups to clear out the bottom floor of the bank. Dean, Charlie, and Maggie found the vault easily enough, the door only half-closed.
"Wait," Dean said. He was listening hard. "I don't like this. We didn't see anyone on the way here, the door's open for us. I think they've cleared out."
"Dean! Get your ass in here and untie me." A man's voice called out from the vault.
"Dad!" Dean exclaimed, yanking the vault door all the way open. John Winchester was inside, hands and feet tied behind his back.
"Hang on," Dean drew his knife and went to work on the ropes.
"Careful, these militia men know how to tie a knot." John turned back to Maggie and Charlie, who were making sure that Danny wasn't hiding in a corner somewhere. "Who is this with you?"
"That's Charlie and Maggie. Charlie's brother, Danny, was taken by the same group that had you. Know 'im?"
"Yeah, I do. Strong kid. He almost escaped once, but Neville caught up. They're keeping him on the train. It's leaving tomorrow morning."
Charlie swore and kicked the wall, rushed for the vault door. Dean didn't try to stop her as he sawed through the last of the ropes around John's wrists.
With John's hands helping, they got through the rope on his ankles much faster, and John was leaning up against Dean as he regained feeling in his feet. "Is Sam looking for the Colt?"
"Yeah, he's with the other guy we brought. He's Danny's uncle. Dad, it's Miles Matheson."
John pulled up short, looking at Dean's face to make sure he wasn't joking. "I'd heard that Matheson left, but... damn. Is it safe to leave Sam with him?"
"I wouldn't have if it wasn't, dad, you know that."
Maggie caught up with them from the vault, holding the two longest stretches of rope. "What?" she said to Dean's surprised expression. "Rope can always come in handy, and this stuff is good quality."
John actually smiled a little, sticking out his hand. "Hi, John Winchester."
Instead of shaking his hand, Maggie slapped her borrowed gun into his palm. "Here, you'll make better use of this than I will. Let's go." She marched on ahead.
John turned to Dean. "Tell me you've at least tried."
Dean backpedaled. "Dad! I was a little focused on trying to find you. And she's usually much less... fiery."
John sighed, but just then Sam shouted, "Dean!" from the front of the bank, and they took off running.
They skidded to a stop in front of the bank's glass front doors, boarded up from the inside but with some gaps to look out of. Sam was at one of these, deep worry etched in his face.
"What is it, Sam?" John asked.
"Dad." Sam sounded relieved. "Come look."
Dean and John found their own gaps, and outside...
Somewhere between twenty and thirty people were gathered out front, swords and iron bars and baseball bats held loosely in their hands. They weren't talking. They were hardly even moving. And every one of their eyes were oily black.
"Why aren't they attacking?" Dean murmured. It hadn't really sunk in yet, but the thought had occurred to him right away: that they were all going to die here. There was no way to survive an assault like this.
"Waiting for orders." John said, startling Dean. "I found the thing that killed Mary. It's a yellow-eyed demon, high up on Hell's food chain. The Colt is the only thing that can kill it."
"The Colt." Dean said. "We can use that! We'll just pick them off - "
John was already shaking his head. "Not enough bullets. The gun needs special bullets and we don't have enough."
"Guys, where's the others?" Sam broke in.
"Danny was moved to the train, Charlie just stormed off, and Maggie went... somewhere. Where's Matheson?"
"He went around to check the rest of the floor. He should be back by now." Sam said.
In unison, they all thought the same thing.
"Hello, Winchesters." Miles' voice said. "Look at this touching family reunion."
Father and sons turned slowly, automatically raising their hands to show that they were unarmed. Miles' eyes were yellow flecked with black, and he had his left arm hooked around Charlie's neck, his right pointing a gun at her temple. A sick grin made its way onto his face.
"Make a move and I kill the girl." Yellow-Eyes said.
"What do you want?" Dean said hoarsely.
"First, the Colt. After that... we'll see."
"We don't have it." John said. "It was taken by the militia. It's on a train headed for Philly now."
"What's going on?" Charlie mouthed to Dean, barely able to breathe let alone speak through the pressure on her neck. Her hands were pulling futilely at the inhuman strength in Miles' arm.
Dean didn't make eye contact with her, just kept staring at Miles' face, where Miles wasn't at home anymore. "Charlie, that's not Miles." he said. "That's a demon wearing him for a meatsuit. It's a killing machine. It's evil for evil's sake, and doesn't give a shit about anything else in the world.
Miles' face twisted into an injured expression, a mockery of pain. "Oh, Dean, that's so hurtful. Why do you say such cruel things about me? I know you're lying, you know. This body remembers handing the Colt over to little Sammy when they found it."
"Fight it, Miles!" Charlie used a small breath to say. "Fight him!"
Yellow-Eyes laughed. "He can hear you. It's killing him that there is absolutely nothing he can do to save you."
"Stop playing around!" John gritted his teeth. "We'll give you the Colt, and you let the girl and the host go. This does not involve them."
Yellow-Eyes sneered, but said, "Deal. Colt first."
"Sam." John stated.
Sam reached back slowly, pulling the Colt from his waistband. Then he aimed it at Miles' head.
"Sam." Dean warned quietly, tone exactly the same as John's just moments before.
"I could wonder who's faster," Sam sighted along the long barrel. "But it really doesn't matter, does it? Miles is dead either way. Charlie knew what she was getting into. What's two more lives in this feud? I will shoot you, and this will finally be over."
Charlie was shaking, eyes red with tears, but Yellow-Eyes wasn't paying attention to that. He was staring at Sam, his gaze testing. Would Sam really do it? Would he kill two people to avenge the death of his mother?
And he must have seen something there that told him yes, Sam would, because his grip on Charlie loosened, his head went back and smoke started trailing from his mouth, and with a thud he went stumbling forward. Maggie stood behind him, fully extended from swinging a broken off table leg into Miles' back. Charlie went spilling forwards, out of Yellow-Eyes' reach.
Sam fired, but the gun was old and unfamiliar. Even braced for the recoil, Sam's shot went wide, burrowing into the wooden floor.
Miles vomited smoke to the floor.
Dean started chanting the second half of an exorcism, sending the demon back to Hell, and even though John and Sam joined in the smoke pooled and swirled angrily, and shot up -
Dean shouted a warning but there was nothing to defend with, no defense for this -
Sam raised the gun and shot into the smoke but nothing -
The smoke funneled down into John's mouth. He blinked, and opened yellow eyes.
"No!" Dean yelled, grabbing the front of his father's jacket with both hands and throwing him against the boarded-up windows. "You get out of him right the fuck now, you son of a bitch!"
"Now now, Dean, that's no way to speak to your father." Yellow-Eyes cooed. "Careful with the packaging, there, or Daddy Dearest might not survive this."
Dean released Yellow-Eyes, albeit reluctantly. Miles groaned on the floor, coming to. Charlie was waving Maggie off and trying to check his eyes. The demon's attention went to them. "Strange little band you boys picked up, I'll admit. Useful, though."
"The deal's the same." Dean ground out. "We'll give you the Colt, you let all of us go."
Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "That one is off the table. My hostage is so much more valuable now. Dean and Sam don't want to lose their father, too. After their mother died so... painfully."
"Dean." Sam had the Colt trained on their father's heart.
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"Dad would want this. I think he'd want us to kill the demon even if it meant killing him too."
"Yeah, maybe he would, but that's a stupid plan, Sam. Give me the goddamn gun, I'm not letting you kill dad."
Sam handed the Colt over, although his expression said that he didn't think it was a good idea. Then Dean brought it right back up again to bear on John. "I'll do it, not you."
Yellow-Eyes grinned. "That's how it's going to be?" he didn't seem afraid at all. Like he thought Dean couldn't do it.
Or like he had something else up his sleeve.
Yellow-Eyes threw his arms out and to the side, pinning all of them to the walls. Dean grunted as he hit, and managed to keep his grip on the Colt. The demon didn't waste any more time gloating, but pushed open the front door to reveal the first gray light of sunrise, and then he was gone.
Dean pushed against the force holding them to the wall, but it was another four minutes before it released, letting him slump to the ground and feel for broken ribs.
"Everyone okay?" Dean asked. "Good. Sam, let's go."
"Dean, he could be anywhere by now." Sam said. "We lost him again."
"I know!" Dean shouted. "Dammit, Sam, I know."
"What was all of that?" Charlie asked. She was helping Miles to sit up, while Maggie checked the dark bruise already blooming on his back.
Dean sighed, grabbing at his hair. "Look, someday I'll explain all of it. We'll answer whatever questions you have. But not right now. I'm sorry but we have to go. We can't help you find your brother anymore."
Charlie nodded. "He's your father, I understand. Go." She held out the weapons they'd borrowed from Sam and Dean.
Sam shook his head. "Keep them. They won't do anything against the things we're about to go up against."
Dean checked outside. There were still people there, but they were milling around, confused, wondering why they were all gathered outside the bank with weapons. "Looks like the cavalry's gone."
"Why didn't it take the Colt?" Sam wondered. "What was the point of all this?"
Dean looked at the old gun in his hand, thumb tracing over the inscription. Non timebo mala. I will fear no evil.
"If you get what you came for," he said quietly, "You can go home."
"Yeah, maybe."
"If we ever see you again..." Miles started to say.
"Hopefully it'll be under better circumstances." Dean finished for him. "For both of us."
Miles nodded.
"Good luck." Maggie wished them.
"Gonna need it." Sam pushed the door open, stepping out into dawn.
"Where do you wanna start?" Dean asked Sam.
"I think we're right back at the beginning."
This is going to be the last one for a while. If I ever do write another, it'll probably include a timeskip that will bring us into the events of season 4 or 5, Supernatural time, but depending on Revolution's future timelines will in this verse cover a lot less time and space between events. If that makes sense to anyone.