NINE

TO THE DEATH

She felt numb, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as she clenched it tight while she clung to the shards of sanity that remained within. Her eyes were surprisingly dry, the tears she wanted to shed locked away in a tight ball of fear that was slowly churning in her stomach, just waiting to be released, but only once she'd taken her first steps in hell with Death cursing by her side. She would not unleash the water works, not when she needed to be cold, to use the pain and the anguish inside of her to be the hunter that had slaughtered so many monsters, the pain and anguish that would slaughter the pale horseman.

She pulled up a few blocks from where they had passed the shining white Cadillac, as far as she was willing to get away from the house. It had taken all of her strength to keep driving, past where the trail ended, past where the monster held Dean and god knows how many innocents, likely children by the bikes and the football that had been laid to rest on the front lawn. Even Sam had seemed to resist the urge to ask that Kali pull to the curb and sprint in, but both knew that they needed to prepare for themselves.

She stepped out of the car, and neither she nor Sam spoke a word as they opened the trunk, reaching in. Whether people were watching, they didn't care; not about the devils trap on the roof of the trunk or the lines upon lines of pointy, explosive and generally dangerous weapons within. Kali tied a blade into her hair and secured the chains on her wrist, testing that they were all secure as she whipped them around. She caught her braid, satisfied, ready to strap her Nodachi to her back when Sam put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to him, concerned by the strange expression on his face until he said, 'you're scary, but I am so glad that you're here right now.'

She saw the fear that he tried to hide behind a half-hearted smile, saw the same tears in his eyes that she felt in hers and reached out to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her head on his chest as she just held him.

'We'll get him back, Sam,' she said, feeling how tight he squeezed her, 'even if it's only so that we can have one last fight together.'

They pulled apart, and Kali reached up, placing a hand on his chest, their shared fear becoming a shared strength, a shared love. Kali for the one man who had truly touched her heart and Sam for his big brother who had always been there for him, looked out for him, even when he had run away to become a lawyer.

Both turned back to the trunk, Sam strapping more blades to his body – including two scythes in sheathes strapped to his back – before he added holy water and other nasties that he was sure the demons would love to be introduced to. Kali already had her blade in her hair and one strapped to her calf, the other essentials ready and waiting on her person. The one thing she needed was her sword, all four feet of the blade that she slid into the sheathe that was ready and waiting on her back. She looked to Sam, and with a nod they reached to close the trunk. Kali stood for a moment, trailing her fingers over the perfect paint, polished to perfection. Her Cobra had been her passion just as ballet and gymnastics had. Her grandfather had shown her how to take care of every inch of the beauty inside and out, letting her believe it was only to give her a valuable skill. Just before he had died though, he had taken her hand and told her that his baby was to be hers, that his passion would live on through her love and care.

It wasn't until after he had died, when she was taking care of it as promised, that she had noticed the carefully crafted metal words on the back, spelling her name. She would miss her Cobra, the one thing that had kept her sane in such a dark, frightening world.

Until Dean.

Kali and Sam walked with determined steps, the clomp of their boots on the sidewalk screaming of a confidence they should not have allowed themselves to feel, but with nothing to lose they let that confidence echo. As they approached the simple white home, they became careful of their steps though, coming at the house from the back. Kali reached the fence first, gripping the top to catapult herself over before she dropped low, crouching behind a shrub on the other side. She glanced up when Sam didn't follow, worried that with his broad build he would struggle with the high fence, but he catapulted himself over just as she had, landing only slightly less gracefully beside her.

He pulled his scythes out, glancing to her as she quirked an eyebrow at him before she looked at the house, seeing that the blinds were drawn, making it impossible to see inside, as well as impossible to see out. There had only been two demons at the motel, but they had no way to know if there were more inside with Death. For all they knew, there was a swarm of the bastards inside, just waiting to tear them apart.

And still they would go in.

They used the little advantage they had, keeping low as they approached a window. Not all of the curtains could be perfectly closed, could they? They could hope at least as they walked around the house, peeking through every gap they found until finally they stumbled upon the right room.

Kali reached to her chest, feeling the tearing that the sight before her caused in her heart. Dean was leaning against the wall on his shoulder, the skin of his eyebrow bursting as a fist landed hard. Blood oozed from the new wound, rolling down his cheek to blend with the thick crimson on his chin. He was bruised, looked so broken and pale beneath the black, blue and red as he struggled for breath. She could see how he held his wrists, the position unnatural, each movement causing another flash of agony to fill his face.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him, even though she could hear the screams and tears of children inside, hear them weeping as they cried out for their mother. She hardly even noticed the mother that cowered beside Dean, still trying to call out for her boys even though there wasn't enough breath in her body to do so.

Sam tapped her shoulder, the touch becoming more urgent until she finally looked to him. He mouthed, 'hostages,' not daring to speak for fear that his words might be heard by the monsters inside.

'There are only two demons,' she said in silence.

'If we can kill them quick, maybe–'

She clapped a hand over his mouth to cut off his silent words. 'Let's not get our hopes up.'

He nodded, and she removed her hand, both of them looking back to the window to peek through the sliver of space between the curtains. The demons were wailing on Dean, both grinning as they lifted him from the ground, placing what appeared to be a gentle hand on his ribs, but by the cry that came from Dean, it obviously didn't matter how gentle they were with him. Death sat on the couch, the smallest smile on his lips filled with a darkness that chilled Kali to her soul.

The more she looked at him, the more she wondered how someone who looked so frail could hold so much power. Even his fingers looked like they would break on contact with anything, but the ring on his right hand, that was what interested her most. The white stone drew her gaze, and she knew in that moment that she would pry that ring from his finger even if it meant crawling back from hell do to it.

She glanced around, dragging a confused Sam to the side, away from the window towards the back of the house. He was throwing silent questions at her until she pointed at the balcony above and then drew his gaze down. There was lattice work on both sides of the balcony, encouraging and training the growth of a creeper, and by the perfect white paint and the small vines, the lattice was new. Kali reached up, feeling Sam tug at her jacket. She didn't look back, continuing to climb the lattice, listening for any cracks of wood but hearing only the faintest squeaks as she made her way to the balcony. She reached the metal of the balcony rail and gripped tight, hoisting herself up. She perched herself on it, looking down to Sam, encouraging him to follow even though there was trepidation in his eyes. After all, he was far heavier than her tiny build, and there was no way to know it the lattice would hold him. Still he gritted his teeth, tucking his scythes into the sheathes on his back before he reached up.

He climbed carefully, flinching with every creak that the wood emitted. She reached for him when he was close enough, gripping his wrist as he gripped hers to pull him up. He breathed a sigh of relief before he mouthed, 'how are you so strong?'

She smirked, mouthing, 'Dean asked me the same thing.'

She reached over her shoulder, grabbing her braid. She pulled her hair back from the blade, using it to get past the simple locking mechanism, the smallest part of her thinking that their security needed a serious upgrade as she pushed the door open.

At least they keep their door hinges nicely oiled.

They crept into the house, their footsteps light as they moved slowly through the rooms until they found the staircase. They crouched behind the heavy wooden balustrade, listening, knowing that the horseman was holding Dean, the mother and the children in the family room at the front of the house. Kali wanted to flinch with every smack of flesh she heard, knowing that each hit was against Dean. After all, his sounds of pain were all that she could hear now, the children apparently silenced, and she hoped, prayed, that it wasn't in the permanent way.

She grabbed Sam, dragging him into another room as she pulled a deadly little package from her jacket pocket.


Dean saw a flash of white, his head shooting to the side. He felt one of his teeth loosen dangerously as he spat blood, his lips numb from the mistreatment of so many punches, his whole body aching with the beating that the demons were dealing while Death sat comfy on a leather couch.

When the horseman finally spoke, his voice was strangely cheery. 'You're tougher than I thought you would be, Winchester.' That creepy smile lit his thin, pale lips as he reached up with a surprisingly steady hand to needlessly smooth his oiled black hair. 'I wonder if you'll be so quiet when I let my friends beat your brother.'

'You stay away from Sammy.'

'Or what?' a demon asked, only to be silenced by a raised hand from Death.

'Thank you, but I will do the talking,' the horseman said, words clipped, his smile disappearing. He turned back to Dean, standing to walk closer, the demons stepping aside as Death looked down on Dean's battered body. 'And what if I were to let my boys lay their hands on him? What would you do, Dean? Kick and gasp and beg me to stop them? You're all going to die, after all. Why not let these demons, these loyal fiends who broke free from hell just to help me make it to the surface, have a little fun before I take their play things away? I believe you're brother could be just the thing they need to release their anger, and then there's your little girlfriend.'

'If any of you even lay one fucking hand on her,' Dean growled as best as he could with the little air in his lungs, 'I'll drag you back down and torture you myself, and believe me, with the things I learnt over the decades I spent below…I'll enjoy every scream.'

'Oh, fighting words,' he said, placing a thin fingertip on his cheek, trailing it over his skin. He expected pain but felt nothing as Death turned his face to the side, forcing him to watch as Death placed a hand on Cassandra's chest, forcing him to see the pain in her eyes as she felt her heart explode in her chest. He screamed as he met her gaze, seeing the silenced pain in her eyes until the light within them went dark, her body slumping against him. He wept, unable to stop the tears that fell, the rivulets slicing through the thick blood on his face. His chest ached for the two boys that had just lost their mother, especially because he knew this fate awaited them both. So young, their lives destroyed, and soon to be ended.

At least the husband would escape this fate simply by being at the supermarket, but would it be worth the pain? Would he be able to survive the loss of his family? Dean knew that if he were to lose Sam, Bobby and Kali…

Kali…

God, I know you probably stopped caring about me a long time ago, but please… Keep my family safe.

'They will never come for me,' Dean said, never looking away from those darkened eyes of Cassandra's, 'they will just wait until you are distracted, and kill you then.' He looked to Death with a gaze filled with fire, with pain and all the love he would never be able to express as he said, 'it may take a month, or maybe even a decade, but they will kill you and you will go back to exactly where you came from.'

Death smiled. 'Oh please. Neither myself nor God can remember who is older, and you think you can scare me with your little stint in he–'

Dean didn't know what surprised him most; the sudden ringing in his ears or the way Death and his demons shot backwards, their bodies pounded by rubble. His eyes stung as dust filled them, but he didn't care, not when air filled his lungs. He dragged in breath after breath, not even noticing the plaster that bounced of his pounding head. He just got some air in his lungs and leant his back against the wall, ignoring the searing pain in his wrists as he pushed to his feet. He was coughing as he stood, nearly toppling over with the crippling pain, but he pushed forward, charging for the horseman only to stop as a body landed before him. He stumbled back, his vision blurry with tears and dust, be he could not mistake the tiny little frame that stood before him.

'Kali–'

'Good to see you too babe,' she said, dragging him into his arms with one arm as she reached behind her back with the other, unsheathing her Nodachi to slice the head from the demon that was sneaking up behind Dean in a clean swipe, the black smoke of the demon rising with such force that the disembodied head flew into the air. She grabbed the end of her braid and quickly sliced the binding on his wrists before she forced him to the ground. She lunged for Death, Sam already taking care of the other demon. The tip of her blade kissed his flesh and she tasted the sweetest anger, the most desperate need to destroy him as she sliced his hand, only to have him step back. That sickening smile remained on his lips, even as Sam came to her side, joining her attacks. Neither of them got close, but Kali's determination never faltered, even as Sam was thrown back, hitting the wall with such force that he was unconscious even before he slid to the dust coated ground. After all, she was still standing, and she had a chance to–


She knew that someone was screaming. For a moment she thought it was her, but her lungs felt too heavy for her to even speak, let alone cry out. And if it was her, when did her voice become so deep, so harsh…?

She was jostled, her feet kicked out from under her, but she didn't fall to the ground. She was placed there, gently, and still the screaming filled her ears even as she came to realise that her lips weren't moving. She couldn't even draw a breath, not without feeling a gut wrenching pain, her body convulsing with it, though she didn't know why, not until she lifted her head to look to her chest. There was blood everywhere, her shirt shining with it, the pool spreading with every second as the hands pushed further into her chest, crushing her lungs. Even as she watched him squeezing the life from her, she still tried to reach for her sword with a shaking, weak hand that could barely grip the hilt.

She tried to lift her Nodachi, tried to wield it as she usually did, but the metal clattered to the ground. She couldn't do it, couldn't even take the hand off the bastard who was taking her life, but if there was one last thing she could do…

'You've been a bad girl, Kali Saxton. All that smoking is bad for you. I can feel the tar in your lungs, feel the damage you've done,' he whispered, dropping lower to ghost his lips over her cheek. 'The things I can use to kill you, the many, many things. Cancer sounds fun. I can make you live through every agonising moment of someone who has suffered for years, all in the short time it will take for your blood to soak into this carpet.'

'Guess I'll see you in hell,' she choked, tasting blood.

She looked to the side, ignoring Death's irritating, far too sickeningly cheery voice as she memorised Dean's face even though it was blood and tear stained before she met his gaze. Though she couldn't speak, she said, 'I love you,' and white light engulfed her.

Kali didn't care that her time was over, though she wished that she had taken Death with her. She had finally told Dean what he meant to her.

Everything.

And now – miraculously – she was going to heaven; light surrounded the angel before her, his wings spreading like shadows in the blazing white. She wanted to smile, but the quirk of her lips faltered as a voice drifted through her head.

'Now,' it said, 'your chance is now. Take it, Kali Saxton.'

'But, I can't,' she said, closing her eyes, the light too bright as she realised that even now she could not speak, that the damage of her lungs had carried through to heaven, as strange as it was, 'I'm–'

'You have life enough for this.'

She opened her eyes and the light was gone. Death still stood over her, his hands deep within her chest, but his gaze was no longer settled on her. No, it was directed at the man that stood beside him, though his wings were gone. He stood only in a trench coat, his tie slightly askew and his shirt collar a little off, but when he spoke it was the same voice.

'Now Kali. You are strong.'

She felt it too, felt his words as they filled her. This time when she gripped the hilt, her fingers curled around it, tight and sure as she lifted the blade. Death looked to her, but too late as she raised the blade, a quiet cry escaping his lips as she hacked through his wrists. He stumbled back, standing as he stared at the stumps, though they were not stumps for long, his hands growing back. He lunged for her, but the angel – the angel – pulled him away from Kali.

'Without your ring you cannot kill her. You cannot kill anyone like you used to,' he said. 'You must stop this. You have taken too many lives before their times, when you should be keeping the balance.'

'Get off your high horse you insignificant, little wing boy. You have no power over me.'

'I have the truth of nature. Do your job horseman, nothing more, or I will lock you back in the cage you belong in,' the angel said, his voice rising for the first time, 'now go! I am keeping your ring.'

Kali tried to keep her eyes open, to watch the bastard horseman skulk away, but they were too heavy. She couldn't even feel the pain any more, and that certainly didn't seem like a bad thing.


'Castiel,' Dean said, 'thank god you're here.'

'He did not send me,' the angel said, stepping towards Dean. He helped him to his feet, seeming not to notice as Dean struggled, trying to pull away, though Castiel's grip was too strong for the weakened Winchester. 'You are injured.'

'I don't care,' Dean screamed, wrenching himself from Castiel's arms to drop by Kali's side. He uselessly waved his hand over her, seeing so much blood, too much blood that soaked through everything, somehow even making it through the leather of her jacket. He cried, shameless as the sobs ripped from his chest as he finally cupped her face in his hands, though one of his wrists screamed at the pain. He leant his bloodied forehead against hers, feeling how cold she was. When he sat back on his heels, her skin had lost that porcelain perfection, almost blue in its near bloodless state. Even her eyes, those pale blue pools, looked white, so lifeless.

The cry that wrenched from his aching chest was the anguish of a broken man, so beyond repair. He dropped his head to her bloodied chest, not caring about the gore, especially when he heard the faintest bah-boom. He shot up, staring at Castiel, screaming, 'fix her!' He screamed it over and over, even as Sam came into consciousness and tried to pull him away from her body.

'Dean, I canno–'

'You pulled me from hell for fuck sake, so fix her while she's still holding on!' he roared, seeing the strain on Castiel's face and not caring how bad the angel felt, not when the one good thing to come into his life since Sam was lying cold on the floor with the hands of that crusty, old, bastard of a horseman in her chest.

'Dean, she can't be–'

'But she is,' Dean cried at his brother. 'She is, but she won't be if you don't do something you damn angel!'

Sam held Dean back, even as Castiel crouched beside her body, holding his hands above her chest. His normally stoic features changed rapidly, his eyebrows nearly shooting off his head as he felt the life force that remained in her. He wasted no more time, pooling his power into her, filling her with it. Before their very eyes, the severed hands of the horseman were forced from her body, falling to the floor beside her as the macabre pond of blood she lay in was pulled back into her body from the carpet. Her torn lungs – visible through the holes where Death's hands had broken through – knitted back together, just as her ribs did shortly after, her skin too. Soon the only traces left were the two holes in her t-shirt, torn and frayed around the edges.

At that first shaky breath, Dean dropped to his knees; Sam had let go of him in shock, leaving his brother and his battered body to crawl across the floor. When her eyes fluttered open, he cried the fattest tears of joy to ever fall from his eyes. Even the agonising pain in his body couldn't interrupt his happiness, couldn't make his smile falter as he clutched her to his chest, and though he knew he was bloody he claimed her lips and kissed until they were both breathless.

'Don't you ever scare me like that again,' he said, not even trying to stop the smile that lit his lips. 'When he punched through your chest, I felt my heart shatter.'

'Good thing there was an angel to pick up the pieces,' she whispered, cupping his cheeks in her hands, wiping away some of the blood and tears on his skin.

He couldn't wait any longer. 'I love you, Kali,' he said, not caring about the witnesses, 'I'm giving up being a hunter. We're getting away from this life.'

She shook her head. 'Don't be silly. You know as well as I do that we wouldn't last five minutes in the normal world, not with all we've seen and done. As much as we don't like it, this is where we belong, but I don't care any more,' she said. 'More than ever, we are hunters, and I'm okay with that, especially now that I've got you.'

He didn't know what to say, but the kiss she gave him stole any argument he might have made, because deep down, he knew she was right. Being a hunter sucked sometimes. He had lost so many people that he loved, had seen so many horrific things and even done some, but today, he had something to look forward to, even though they still had so many hard times ahead of them. Today he had the two things he needed in life; his brother, and the woman he knew would hold his heart for eternity.

She stood, helping him stand before she tucked herself into his arms. He flinched at the contact on his ribs, but still held her tighter when she tried to pull away. While Castiel promised to tend to the young boys and the father who would arrive home only to become a broken man, Kali and Dean led the way out of the house, Sam close on their heels.

'Dean,' Sam whispered, making Kali and his brother pause before they could get into the Cobra. He looked to the two of them, saw the way Kali supported Dean, saw the edge of happiness that somehow managed to find its way into the gaze and said, 'Dean, marry that girl.'

Kali laughed, but Dean just smiled at his brother and glanced to her, pulling her tighter against his side as he said, 'maybe one day I will.'

THE END


Greetings readers.

I hope you enjoyed reading Crimson Angel as much as I enjoyed writing it. I had a blast writing the wicked new character of Kali Saxton, and even more fun writing Dean and bringing a little bit of sunshine into his otherwise dark life.

And hey, maybe one day there'll be another Kali/Dean adventure. I hope you'll keep an eye on my profile for future stories.

Thanks for reading!

~ Ryuk In Person ~