Dean drove all night, while Sam slept quietly next to him. He was beyond relieved when he heard from his friend. He had to tone down his excitement in front of Sam, because he was embarrassed from the childish feelings he was having. He felt all his worrying was for nothing and was eager to see what Castiel had found. The address turned out to be a sleazy old motel in the western part of Virginia. Dean wondered why Cas would get a room here. Sam woke as soon as they pulled into the parking lot. The place looked abandoned and they would have assumed so if it hadn't been for the faded vacancy sign in the office window. The brothers stepped out of the car and immediately felt that something was off. It was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight. No manager or cleaning staff, not a single customer. Dean counted the cars in the parking lot, there were five. Some old some new, but the place was a ghost town. Sam asked about the room number and Dean pointed and headed to room 209. The complex had a pretty basic lay out, nothing fancy. Castiel's room was in the furthest back of the two buildings in the back facing away from the road. Dean started to feel more and more anxious as they approached. Sam continued to look for people or even an open room implying staff was inside, there were none, it wasn't a good sign. They reached the room, Dean knocked on the door, but there wasn't an answer. He looked back at Sam, who matched his look of concern, not sure rather to wait or dive right in. Sam shrugged and Dean reached for the door and opened it.

Dean peaked in and was horrified when he saw the room, it was a total mess. The TV was on and bed was unmade, the whole place looked disheveled. The lamp was knocked over, the phone was on the floor, the end table tipped to its side. There was no doubt something big went down here. Sam searched the room for clues, while Dean checked the closet and bathroom. Before Dean could reach the bathroom he saw a sole of a shoe. He walked towards it and turned the corner. It was Castiel. He was dead, lying lifelessly in a blood of his own blood. Dean fell to his knees in denial, checking for a pulse, calling out his name. When Sam heard his panic he came rushing over. He was deeply shocked by the scene he saw before him. He watched as Dean kept checking and calling out Castiel's name. He looked at Sam with this fleeting look of sorrow in his eyes. Dropping his head as the slow realization that his longtime friend was gone and there was nothing he could have done to save him. Dean hollered and punched the carpet, until his knuckles turned blue. Fighting hard to swallow his tears, but the pit in his stomach was bubbling and threating to explode. Sam ran his fingers threw his hair, walking away from the grizzly scene. He tore through the room for answers, anything. He found on the bed Castiel's angel blade, covered in blood. Enraged he flung the blade from the bed, revealing something dark red. He squinted and picked up a small dress, one that looked strikingly similar to the one Amara wore. He looked around the room again, this time with a new prospective. What if this wasn't Castiel's room? What if this was Amara's? Sam looked at the dresser and found a hair brush, he found a broken necklace and the then a pair of little black dress shoes. Sam snatched up the items and showed them to Dean, before something else caught his eye.

Dean gave up fighting and let his pain pour out of him. His tears soaked his checks, as his nose ran uncontrollably. His face bunched up, making the ugliness expression you'd ever seen, but he didn't care. He reached down slowly and lifted Castiel's body from the floor, holding him close to his chest in tight embrace. He tears fell onto Cas' trench coat, leaving wet stains around the neck. He wept into his friend's collar, whispering apologies that would never be heard. He swore he would find the person responsible for this and make them pay with every fiber in their body. "I'm sorry Castiel." Was the last thing he whispered as he wiped the strands of hair from Castiel's face. The peaceful look on his face was all the comfort he got, knowing his friend was no longer suffering.

Sam turned the corner. "Dean. I think I know who did this." Dean turned and looked at his brother with a wrathful look. "And I think I know where she's heading." Sam opened a flyer of the Historic Williamsburg, VA.


Hell has no fury like a hunter's scorn. Despite Sam's protest of making a plan or waiting till their head's cooled off, Dean rushed into the situation like he always did. Sam couldn't blame him, he was just as pissed. He thought of Castiel like a brother, but he couldn't help but think it was a trap. Dean however was ready to put it all on the line. He let her off easy the first couple of times because he was mesmerized by her, but there was no feeling of wonder, not an ounce of mercy left in his body. She had taken someone very important from him and from the pit of his soul there was no compassion that could save her now. Sam didn't interfere even after Dean wrapped Castiel up and placed him in the trunk of the car. Dean didn't want to bury his friend so far away, he wanted him close. He clinched the leather of the steering wheel as he tore down the highway. Amara was going to pay, even if it costed him his life.

They arrived in Williamsburg, it was partly cloudy and late in the evening. They booked a room at the first motel they could find. Sam had finally convinced Dean to come up with a game plan. Dean didn't like the idea, but he had no other choice, Sam was right. If they were going to do this, they needed to be smart. Dean left the room in a fit and Sam let him, his brother needed his space and so did Sam. The sun was setting as Dean took a walk down the sidewalk. He stared at no one as he walked without purpose down the pavement. People's smiles and cheerful laughter annoyed him, it taunted the dejected feelings he had inside of him. He stopped when he reached the edge and watched the golden sun set. Its dull radiated shine reminded him of the faded glow on Castiel's face. The expression of a man who has many times lost but spirit was never broken. He sniffled and spit and turned back. He cleared his mind and focused on the game plan, pouring all his energy into this one last stand.

Sam and Dean knew very little about how to kill Amara, but they know how to kill a lot of other creatures. They were counting on the idea that Amara wouldn't be at full strength and hoping to catch her off guard and waste her before she got too strong. Sam checked their inventory on holy oil, while dean loaded and cleaned the guns. They worked quickly through the night so they wouldn't miss her before she skipped town. Finishing up, they headed into town at first light. They searched high and low, a search that seemed fruitless, but gave Dean something to focus on other than his grief. It was summer and the town was packed with people, it was nearly impossible to find her, knowing that they had no idea what she looked like or if she transformed at all, but they had to try. The sun was setting and the day was coming to a close and Dean was hot with frustration. They were making no progress. The crowds were thinning and Dean couldn't help but feel disappointed. He turned and cursed under his breath, irritated at the fact that they had wasted an entire day running around chasing a ghost. He wasn't even sure if she was still in town. Just as he was about to give up, he saw a face in the crowd that sent chills down his spine. Their eyes met and time slowed down as she flowed by with a wicked grin on her face. She blinked and disappeared into the crowd and that's when Dean knew. He waved to Sam, who did not see her, but saw where Dean was pointing, the museum. Dean weaved through crowd to reach the museum, with Sam not far behind. It was still open, but not many guest inside. He searched every face until he saw her passing unhindered through the crowd. Her smiles taunted him and mocked his pain and anguish. Dean charged after her, chasing her through the endless exhibits, when finally he stopped when he saw her enter a part of the museum that was under construction. Sam was not far behind and then and there they formulated a plan. Without talking Dean went in first, it was dim and the artifacts were covered with white tarp. The walls were bare, with only shadows to decorate them. Dean moved causally about twisting and moving around the objects. "Boo!" He jerked around, Amara caught him off guard. She lifted her hand and flung him into a statue.

"Wow, how dumb are you." Amara laughed. As she walked towards him she did not see Sam behind her. Before she could make a move he doused her with holy oil, lit a match and set her on fire. Her body erupted in flames as she screamed bloody Mary. Her flesh quickly burned and melted off at a speed much faster than a normal fire. Her beautiful brown hair turned black as the flames shifted wildly from orange to yellow. Dean and Sam covered their eyes as she floundered about. She stumbled and rolled, and collapsed to the ground, as the flames finished when her life force faded out and for a moment Sam and Dean thought they had won. From her corpse a devious laugh emerged. Her dark sickly cackle rattled Sam and Dean to the bone. Her body lifted, disfigured and burnt as she laughed hysterically into the darkness. Sam and Dean were horrified as they watched her slowly heal. She conjured the power from the souls she had eaten and healed her broken skin and smoldered flesh. The process took a matter of minutes and the teen Amara was reborn, fully nude and thriving before them. "Ah Ah Ah." She waved her finger and in one flick snapped Dean's arm in half. He hollered and buckled to the ground, while Sam watched hopelessly, frozen in fear. She turned to Sam eager to return the favor, when suddenly the ground started to shake.

The ground rattled and shook, knocking objects to the floor. The lights flickered as the ground split in two, bursting with flames and fire. Everyone in the room shielded their eyes. From the smoke and ashes rose a figure. "Holy boys." Dean and Sam immediately knew who it was. "Sorry for the flashy intro, but what can a say, go big or go home. Amara." Crowley greeted, stepping from the flames. His power level was off the chart, it was nothing like the dwindling flame when she met him the first time. She backed up, knowing she did not have enough power to take him. Crowley could sense this and grinned. "I believe we have a bit of unfinished business to attend to."

"Crowley-

It was the last word she muttered as he lunged forward and drove his hand through her chest, taking with it her beating heart. He savored how it still pulsed as he ripped it back out of her chest again. She watched all blurry eyed unable to speak. "This will do." Crowley stared amusingly at the dying organ, right before crushing it with his bare hands. His blood rushed as he blasted her body into a million bits with one shot from his hands, decorating the walls with his very own special kind of art. "Perfect, no better place for a relic than a museum." Crowley turned to the boys. Sam was crouched over his brother, who was holding onto his arm to minimize the pain. "Oh stop it's just a scratch. Boys!" Crowley snapped his fingers as Jake and Max appeared beside him, growling and hissing and hungry for their next meal. Sam and Dean prepared for the worst, as Crowley walked towards them. He pasted them and stopped at the foot of the gapping hole. "There's a new king in town and he's not going to take any of your shit any longer! Now, I've down you two twits and the rest of this moron infested planet a favor." He pointed to the bits of Amara all over the walls. "Be grateful."

"H-how!?" Sam's voice cracked as he spoke out.

"How you say?" Crowley laughed, pretending to be more excited than he was. "None of your fucking business, that's how." He temper matched the flames erupted from the pit. "However I will tell you this." He face turned serious. "I am the new king of hell, back, better, and new and improved, and I won't have you two nitwits running around destroying the world in your little suicide missions of love. In this world there cannot be peace without balance, light without dark, day without night. Too much of either can tip the world into turmoil and I for one am tired of cleaning up your little messes. So I'm going to say this once. I have no plans of going on some fruitless crusades to rule this rock, I have no attention for fighting the idiots with wings. I have one job and one job only, to make my deals and collect my souls. You cross me and you die. Oh and thank you for weakening Amara for me, not like she would have been much of a challenge, but I appreciate your participation in my little plan."

"Plan?" Sam looked very confused.

"Yes. You honestly think that you happened stumbled upon her location on your own? Please. Don't take credit where credit is not due." Crowley petted Jake and Max." Yes, such good boys. It took them all but three days to track down that smelly brat." Sam and Dean were both at a loss for words. "Oh and one last thing, here." Crowley threw out a little black phone. "I don't need it anymore." Dean and Sam looked down at the phone and Dean immediately recognized what it was or rather who it belonged to.

"He played his part too." Crowley made a father appear from thin air and flicked it from his hand, sending it floating towards Dean. "His sacrifice will not be forgotten." With that Crowley walked into the fire as the hole sealed itself up leaving only disrupted rubble and dirt.

Dean pulled away from Sam and reached out to grab the feather. He held it tight, feeling like he'd completely failed his friend. He didn't fight the tears that were coming, but they couldn't stay there as Sam pulled him away.