Wow. Sorry it took so long to update. I went to visit my college for next year on Saturday, then only had an hour after getting back to get ready for Prom. Then I slept. A lot. On Sunday. Then today I spent most of my time writing a short story called "Libra," if anyone wants to check it out :)

Anywaqy, here's chapter nine (finally!) and can you believe that there's only one chapter left in the whole OAW series now? I'm so emotional!


Sam fell to his knees as his brother's remains disintegrated, falling to the roof of the mausoleum to join what had become of his wings, blowing away on the breeze. "You bastard," he yelled to everyone and no one in particular. To Lucifer, to God, to anyone willing to listen. "You took him!"

The Devil sighed, his shoulders slumping, black wings unfurling to maintain balance as he slid from the roof. "Sammy," he consoled, "it had to be done. For my plan to work, Dean had to die."

"Your plan," Sam scoffed, "you said yourself that Dean couldn't stop you."

Lucifer smirked, stepping towards him, fingers laced behind his back. "Again, what makes you so special?"

Sam glared up at the creature. "I want to know why."

"Simple. I had to pave the way for my people to come and claim what is rightfully ours. I've been planning for this for a long time, Sam, longer than you could ever imagine. Even before my little… scuffle. What makes you people so special that you get the favor, huh? What makes you so perfect that you get to roam freely while my kind are confined to the fiery pit? What makes you so much better than us?"

"You won't get away with this."

"That's where you're wrong," he said, circling the fallen hunter, the mourning angel, "see, because I just eliminated the problem. Now there's nothing in Heaven or Erath that can stop me."

"Dean's in Heaven."

"No. Dean's in Hell."

"You're lying."

"Not this time, Psychic Boy."

"How?"

Lucifer shrugged. "What can I say? We made a deal. I gave him what he wanted and he took it. We shook on it, Sammy. His soul for his wings and his brother. Not a bad deal."

"Why not just kill him when he was mortal?" Sam asked, refusing to believe anything that came out of the horrid thing's mouth.

"Now where's the fun in that? Besides, I didn't want to kill him, just break him. As soon as the news of his birth spread, I knew we were in trouble. That light that radiated off of him, it was sickening. It meant that my plan had been discovered. Good: 1, Evil:0. So I did the only thing I knew how."

"You got one of your minions on it."

He nodded. "Yellow-Eyes thanked me for the tip on the psychic kids. Killing you all, taking your powers. When I heard about you, heard about your abilities, I sent him there. I knew him. He would see your brother and freak out. He would start amassing an army. He would put you at its head."

"Hate to break it to you, Lucy," Sam muttered, his strength coming back as he spoke, biding for time, for reinforcements, for anything. Maybe even for Dean. "But that didn't quite work out."

"It almost did. I had you two pitted against each other. You should have seen his panic, his fear. I drank it up. He couldn't kill you, and he couldn't save you. So I offered to do it for him. You were healed, he got what he wanted, and I held his soul. And the best part was that he didn't even know."

"But he wasn't broken."

"Why do you think I sent Angie? With you dead, he would lose the will to fight, and this world would be ripe for the taking."

Sam smirked. "But something came up, right? Good: 2, Evil: 0."

"So I sent Orange-Eyes after you. That worked. You died, Dean was lost, and I even got him to turn his back on God. Bonus point."

"But I'm still here."

Lucifer scowled. "Don't remind me. I was so close, and then your side had to go and interfere again."

Sam shook his head. "You didn't break him. You couldn't. And I still don't see why you'd want to."

"Simple," the Devil said, stopping in front of Sam and looking down on him, "if I broke him, I could extinguish that light. Without that light, there would be no hope for your side. We would rise and take over, take what is rightfully ours, and you and your kind would see that you were wrong about us."

Sam slid fluidly from his kneeling position to stand, facing down the evil son of a bitch that had taken his brother. "You really think I'm gonna let you do that?" he snarled, clenching his fists, his fingernails breaking the skin of his palm, drawing blood, "because there's no way in Hell."

"What are you gonna do, Sammy? You gonna beat me to death with my emotions? I don't feel. Anything. Nothing but pride. You gonna touch me with your freaky glowy angel hands and knock me out? It doesn't work. How could something like you possibly defeat something like me?"

Sam felt his lip twitch as red hot anger flowed through his body, coursing like blood, pounding in his temples, traveling from his heart to his arm and down to his hand. Without thinking, he flicked his wrist, grinning wickedly as a spout of fire burst forth from his bleeding palm. "With this."

The Devil growled, an unearthly sound rising deep from within his throat. He raised his hands, his eyes never leaving Sam's, deep pools of blue shining out of the blackest pits of Hell. The sky began warp, the sounds of the birds disappeared, and everything beyond the cemetery gate turned as red as fire.

"Fine," he said, "but we do this my way. No help. Not for you. Not for me." He held out his hand toward the angel. "Deal?" Sammy narrowed his eyes, but took the proffered hand. Lucifer grinned. "Just remember: if you lose, the devil gets your soul."

He took a step back, away from the angel, and with a flick of his own wrist brought forth a sword made of the blackest energy, spitting dark flame, glowing with the torture of millions of lost souls.

Sam just smiled, raising his own weapon. "Let me show you how it's done."