A/N: Hey every one! I did this update in like 2 and a half weeks. Not bad right?
This is the final chapter before the end, I'm excited.
Please Follow, Favorite, and Review

xoAmanda

April 11, 2008

The house we found was abandoned from what we could tell. Setting up was easy, but finding a demon was a little more difficult. After we managed to catch him, we strapped him to a chair in the middle of a devils trap.

He sat there, screaming and thrashing from the holy water Dean is throwing at him. "You ready to talk?"

"I don't know! I don't know anything!"

Dean turned to us, feigning a fake smile, "Oh, you hear that guys? He doesn't know anything."

"Yeah, I heard." Sam responds with a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm telling you the truth." The demon manages to chokes out.

"Oh, you are? My god, then I owe you an apology! Allow me to make it up to you." Dean brings the flask to the demons mouth before forcing holy water down his throat. Through the howling and choking from the demon, Dean continues, "I'm gonna ask you one last time...Who holds my contract?!"

The demon goes silent, his head hanging there for a moment. When he lifts his head his eyes are black and he is smiling like a fool. "Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over."

Anger flickers over Dean's face. One thing I've learned with the Winchesters – don't bring up their mother. He lowers himself so now he's face-to-face with the demon. "I want a name or else…"

"Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a fleabite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."

Rising from his lowered position he looks to me, I nod and begin, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo…"

"How does that feel? Does that feel good?"

The demon laughs loudly and unnervingly, "Go ahead. Send me back to hell... 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you...with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester."

"Should I?" I ask eying Dean carefully.

"Send him someplace he can't hurt anyone else."

"draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis, humiliare sub potenti manu dei..."

Oof. The noise escapes my throat as I hit the grassy ground face first. I raise myself up and wipe the drops of blood from my lips. "Not taking it easy are you?"

"You told me you could handle yourself, so handle yourself." Dean responds his tone even but there's only amusement in his eyes.

When I don't answer he takes a swing, quickly I duck out of the way coming at him with an upper cut. Dean blocks it but he misses the left hook I throw seconds later, it hits him low and hard causing him to grunt. He jumps backward on his toes trying to catch his breath. "Wasn't expecting that."

I can't help but grin, I want to beat him. This time I don't hesitate, almost dancing I move forward and swing right for his perfect jaw line, he blocks my fist, twisting away he lashes out with a side kick. This time his attack connects with my ribs, I groan loudly hunching over. Dean moves towards me, trying to take advantage of the opening but I barrel at him driving my shoulder into his stomach knocking him flat on his back. Dean never goes down without a fight so he drags me down with him. As we're moaning and groaning trying to catch our breath I quickly come to the realization - I'm still on top of him.

My mind flips back to the first time I really looked at Dean - the angelic face, chiseled and tan, his moss green eyes overwhelming me. Now isn't much different except that I can see his freckles trailing across his cheeks and over his nose, almost as if they were placed with careful precision. The wear I saw on his face before is now more defined, I know it has to do with his year almost being up but I can't look away.

"Like what you see?" the familiar line leaves his mouth with a devilish smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I quip.

The smile on his face grows larger; he remembers this from the night in the motel, just as I do. "It's rude to stare Lena."

"I can't help it when I'm stuck on top of you." I giggle gesturing with my head to his hands that are firmly planted on my hips.

Slowly he releases his grip on my waist and holds his hands out, "You're free to move." He challenges.

I don't move, I don't want to and he knows it. Dean lets out a low growl; taking my hands he flips us in one swift motion, now he's on top – in control. The look in his eyes is animalistic and I know where this is going to go. Lowering his head, his lips are right above mine, I can feel Dean's breath ghosting over my lips. Before he knows what's happening I pull my knees up, clenching them on his sides I use every ounce of strength I have to flip him onto his back and jump up. Standing above him I look down with an accomplished smile on my face, "I win."

Dean chuckles as he raises himself onto his elbows, "Yeah, Lena. You win, this time."

"Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant." Sam snaps his phone shut as he rounds the corner to us. He eyes the sight before him with a smile. "She beat you again didn't she?"

"I let her." Dean huffs as he gets up from the ground.

"You did not!" I accuse firmly.

"Do you guys remember that thing in the paper yesterday?" Sam asks, changing the subject.

""Stripper suffocates dude with thighs"?" Dean responds earnestly.

"The other thing."

"Right, the guy that walks into the E.R. and kneels over dead. His stomach's ripped out?"

"His liver, actually. Anyway, get this. The dead body was covered in bloody fingerprints, not the victim's."

"Okay, great. My man Dave Caruso will be stoked to hear it."

"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."

"Well, that's not normal." I chime in.

"So, what are we talking? Uh, walking dead?" Dean's voice rises with excitement. "Walking, killing dead?"

Sam shrugs, "Maybe."

"Zombies do like the other, other white meat. Huh. Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Elena have been on soul-saving detail for months now. And we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden, you're interested in some hot zombie action?"

Sam raises his eyebrow at his brother accusation. "Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung ho to hunt. I just thought I'd be doing you a favor." He turns away from us stepping in the direction of the room.

"Hey, no, no, no, no, no." Dean raises his hands to stop his brother. "I didn't say I didn't want to do it, okay. I mean obviously I want to hunt some zombies."

"Okay whatever man." Sam sighs as he walks away.

Dean turns to me with his hands up, "What was all that about?"

"I'm not entirely sure." I tell him with a shake of my head. "Maybe he's just trying to get your mind off of it."

"Yeah." Dean mumbles. "Maybe."

The coroner's office is chilly and smells like formaldehyde.

"Yeah, the rest of the body was intact. The liver was the only organ missing."

"Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any...ah...teeth marks?" Dean asks.

The coroner looks at us like we're insane before asking, "Can I see your badges?"

"Of course, sure." Sam complies as he pulls out his badge and Dean and I follow suit.

"Fine. So you're cops and morons."

"Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart."

"The liver was not ripped out. It was removed. Surgically. By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?"

My eyes widen but only slightly, Of course we didn't read the report. "Of course we did." I smile sweetly at the aged man.

"Oh it was riveting." Dean breaks in. "Real page-turner, just delightful."

"You done?" The coroner deadpans.

"I think so."

"Please go away."

I roll my eyes and head toward the door, Sam and Dean at my heels. Sam has a giant smile plastered on his face.

"What?" Dean huffs at his brother.

"Nothing. So, that kind of punches a hole in our zombie theory, huh, that scalpel thing?"

"Yeah, zombie with skills, "Dr. Quinn, medicine zombie"."

"Maybe we're on the wrong track, Dean, looking for hacked-up corpses."

"So if we're on the wrong track what should we be looking for then?" I interject as we move down the hallway.

"Survivors." Sam responds. "This isn't zombie lunch. This is organ theft.

Finding a survivor was easy; he was in the same hospital.

"I told the cops all of this yesterday. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"It's just a couple of questions, sir." Sam pleads gently.

The man sighs, "Hey, man. I just got my kidney stolen. I'm tired."

"We'll be out of here quick. Don't you want to get the guy?"

"Will it get me back my kidney?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" I ask him.

"Feeding my meter. I got jumped from behind...and then I wake up strapped to a table. And then the worst pain you could possibly imagine, only worse. And then I black out again. Thank God. And then I wake up screaming in some no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice."

"Do you remember anything about the surgery – you know, what the guy looked like, any details about the room?"

"Let me think about that." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Yeah...one thing is coming back to me. You know what I remember? Getting my kidney cut out of my body!"

Dean looks to his brother then to me with an expression that I find quite hilarious. Holding back the laughter I thank the man for his time and we head back to the motel.

The clacking of the laptop key's under Sam's fingers fills the room, alongside that Dean is happily unwrapping his hamburger while I sit on the bed, waiting.

"So I have a theory." Sam announces.

"Yeah?" I answer. Rising from the bed I move and stand beside Sam to get a look at his computer screen.

"Yeah, I talked to that guy's doctor. Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk."

"That's weird." Dean acknowledges between bites.

"Yeah, nowadays it is, but silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century. It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane, so doctors had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots."

Dean stops mid chew to look at his brother, "Dude, I'm eating."

"Well that works right? Maggots eat bad tissue and leave good tissue." I add.

Sam nods at my statement. "Right! So get this. When they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots."

Dean stops again to look at the both of us this time, mouth full. "Guys, I'm eating!" Begrudgingly he sets down his burger. "Alright, let me get this straight. So, people are getting ganked, right? A little "antiques roadshow" surgery, some organ theft. But why is this all sounding familiar?"

"Because you heard it before. When you were a kid... from Dad." Sam explains. "Doc Benton...real-life doctor, lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So, in 1816, Doc abandons his practice and..."

"Right, yeah, nobody hears from him for like 20 years, and all of sudden, people start showing up dead." Dean finishes.

"Dead or – or missing an organ or a hand or some other kind of part."

"Cause whatever he was doing was actually working. He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them. But I thought Dad hunted him down and took his heart out."

"Yeah, I guess the Doc must have plugged in a new one."

"Okay so if this guy is immortal where is he holding up?" I ask crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well what I can remember from Dad's journal, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of freshwater."

Dean takes a giant bite from his burger before asking, "Why?"

"Because that's where he likes to dump the bile and intestines and fecal matter." Sam states with an enormous grin plastered on his face.

Dean lowers his burger from his lips, gagging slightly.

I burst out laughing as Sam asks, "Lost your appetite yet?"

Dean looks at his burger, then to Sam and, then back to his burger obviously considering not eating anymore. "Oh baby I can't stay mad at you." He tells the burger before taking another huge bite.

"Dean I think you love food more than people." I sputter out between laughs.

"Yeah most people. Some people I think I prefer to food." He responds eyes locked on mine as he chews.

"So these are all the cabins." Sam says pointing to a few spots circled in red on a map. "Most of them have been abandoned for years."

"Alright let's go then." I respond rising from the bed and grabbing my jacket.

Dean's cell begins to ring, once he's fished it out of his pocket he looks at the caller id, he puts it on speaker. "Bobby."

"Hey." Bobby's gruff voice comes through the speaker. "Think I finally got a beat on Bela."

"I'm listening."

"Rufus Turner."

"Who's that? Like a Cleveland steamer?" Dean chuckles.

"He's a hunter, or he used to be."

"And now?"

"Hermit mostly. Does a little selling on the side. Anyway. I put the word out on Bela months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things." Bobby continues.

"And he thinks its Bela?"

"British accent, went by the name Mina Chandler."

"She's used that before. Well, it's kinda of a sloppy move, isn't it? Getting in contact with one of your old friends."

"Friend? Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen years. He's not the Christmas card type. I doubt she knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont."

"Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way."

"One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue."

"Okay." Dean ends the call and slips the phone back into his pocket turning to us. "Come on. We're going after Bela."

"Alright." I shrug and begin to gather my things. "This case probably isn't zombie related anyway."

"Right?!" Dean scoffs loudly.

Sam throws his hands up to stop us, "What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second."

"Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking." Dean instructs his younger brother.

"Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case."

"Are you insane?"

"Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it."

"Well, then I'll kill her. Win-win."

"Dean…" I caution gently.

"We're going, Sam." Dean tells him disregarding my warning tone.

"No!" Sam protests.

"Why the fuck not, Sam?" my tone comes out venomous. What is he thinking?

"Elena, this, this here. Now. This is what is going to save Dean!"

"Chasing after some Frankenstein? Are you out of your mind?" I throw back at him.

"Chasing immortality." He breathes.

Dean and I stare at him, shocked. He really has lost it.

"Look, Benton can't die." Sam presses the subject as he steps toward us. "We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die, then..."

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

"No." Sam admits softly. "I was hoping…"

"So the whole zombie thing - you were lying to me?" Dean steps toward Sam, closing the distance between them.

"I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."

"No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicey McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a friggin' beer. You wanna study him."

"I was just trying to help."

"You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching."

"Fine! Whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too! So will Elena."

My eyes narrow on him, "You don't speak for me, Sam."

"Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No." Dean turns his away from his brother and starts to pack his bag. "It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."

Sam doesn't break his concentration from his brother. "Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket."

I wish I could read the emotions flickering through Dean's beautiful, green eyes but I don't need to, his body language tells me all I need to know. He tenses up, his knuckles are white from the grip he has on his bag. Instead of holding onto it as an anchor his for rage, he thrusts it down onto the bed. "Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up! Now, you coming or not?"

"I'm staying here." Sam tells him quietly.

"No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak."

Sam takes a challenging step towards him. "You're not gonna let me?"

Dean returns the challenge. Now they're in punching distance. "No, I'm not gonna let you."

"How are you gonna stop me?" Sam's question reels Dean back - hitting him like a tidal wave.

"I'm going so if you wanna stay, stay. C'mon Lena."

When I don't move Dean turns back, "What's wrong?"

After thinking a moment longer I answer, "I'm going to stay with Sam."

"You're what?" Dean asks his tone on edge.

I move across the room closing the space between us, "You don't want him to do this; the least I can do is stay with him and back him up."

"No. No way."

"Dean, you're bringing a bottle of alcohol to an old man, you can do that alone. Sam needs back up. I'm staying." I say, pleading at him with my eyes even though my words come out pretty much as a solid fact.

I'm not sure if he understands what I'm trying to communicate or if he is just giving up when he replies, "Fine," and slings his bag over his shoulder before opening the room door.

Dean hesitates for a moment and looks back to us. "Watch each other's backs and be careful."

Sam finally turns to face his brother, "You too."

Dean looks at his brother and nods, then to me. I smile at him, silently telling him its okay. He nods once more and closes the door behind him.

Sam lets out a huge sigh once the door is closed.

Immediately I stomp over to him, reaching up I cuff him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Sam whines rubbing the point of impact.

"You know exactly what that was for!" I grunt through my teeth.

"Then why did you stay?"

"Because if anything happens to you, Dean wouldn't be able to live with himself; and neither would I."

"Yeah well, Dean won't have to be living with himself much longer." Sam mumbles.

My eyes widen at the words that just came out of his mouth. "Excuse me? Can you repeat that - I must have residual bullshit stuck in my ears?!"

"Well it's true! He's not doing anything to help himself out of his deal!"

"Gee Sam - I wonder why? Oh that's right if either of you try anything, deals off and you die!"

"But you can!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" I practically scream. "But if Dean doesn't want to have to hack and slash people up, to replace non-functioning parts of himself to be immortal, then I'm not going to do it."

"So much for doing whatever it takes." Sam spits out harshly.

His words hit me with so much force I feel like I've had the wind knocked out of me. "Yeah, Sam. Let's save Dean this way and in the process become the monsters we hunt. Grand fucking idea."

Sam doesn't say anything; he just stares through me like he isn't registering what I'm saying. Without a word he grabs his wallet and his jacket making his way towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I call after him.

He stops but doesn't turn around to answer, "Getting a car. Meet me outside in fifteen minutes." With that he slams the door behind him.

Sam exits off the main road and we make our way down a small untraveled path. Putting the car into park he flips the visor down and grabs the map to check it once more.

"Let's go." He grabs his bag and opens his door, exiting the car, I follow suit huffing as I go.

We walk in silence, neither of us wanting to be the first to give in after our argument. I don't want to fight with Sam, he's like my brother but he's being reckless and I can't allow it.

It only takes us about half of an hour to find the cabin on the map but it's getting dark. Reaching into his bag he pulls out two flashlights and hands one to me. Swiftly we make our way up the front porch and through the front door, surprisingly it's not locked.

"Elena you take the left, see what you can find." Sam instructs as he moves in the opposite direction.

There isn't much to take in, mostly old stuff, dust covered, smelling like dirt and moth balls. While moving, I find a door.

"Sam." I call as I open it.

I descend down the steps with Sam at my heels, the first thing we see is a man's body lying on an operating table – dead. I hear a small noise from behind a ragged curtain, with my head I motion to it to Sam. Moving closer he pulls the curtain aside to reveal a woman, strapped down to another operating table. Her arm is stretched out beside her, covered in maggots, a piece of skin missing. Desperately I choke back the bile I feel rising in my throat. Sam reaches out with two fingers for a pulse point on her neck, the woman gasps at his touch, her eyes spring open startling us both. The woman is whimpering and on the verge of tears.

"Shh. Shh. Shh. It's okay. We're here to help you." I try and keep voice as soothing as possible.

Sam rummages around and finds a cloth, he wraps it around her arm; she cries out in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Sam murmurs softly.

As I'm removing the strap from around her head, I hear a sound from the top of the stairs. "Sam, he's coming."

She starts to cry, instinctively I cover her mouth, but I think he Doctor hears and starts down the stairs. A small bobbing light is making its way closer to us. Sam picks her up into his arms and runs toward a small window, "Go." He whispers quickly but quietly.

Hoisting myself up I manage to wiggle out of the basement and back into the forest. Sam gingerly lifts the girl up and I grab her from the outside pulling her the rest of the way through. Sam struggles a bit to fit through the tiny space but he does, picking the wounded woman up we both break into a sprint trying to make it to the car.

Rounding the last corner the car comes into view, Sam clicks the remote unlocking the doors. He tosses the keys to me yelling for me to start the car. I climb into the passenger seat, reaching over I shove the key into the ignition and the car roars to life. Sam lies the woman down as gently as possible in the back seat before making his way around to the driver's side.

Behind Sam's head I can see movement; I call out his name but it's one second too late. Benton uses a piece of ply wood to smash the driver's side window in. Sam and I both cover our heads to avoid glass getting in our face. The disfigured man grabs Sam by the hair and slams his head against the steering wheel, over and over and over. The car flies backward; Sam must have his foot on the gas. Benton stumbles and falls to the ground but before he can get up, Sam has the car in drive. Flooring it - he drives straight over the Doctor.

"Oh my god!" I place my trembling hands over my mouth. "Do you think we killed him?"

"Doubt it." Sam answers his voice even.

"What are we going to do with her?" I ask gesturing to the whimpering girl in the backseat.

"Drop her at a hospital, and then we're going back to the motel to study this." Sam pulls a journal from his jacket pocket and tosses it in my lap.

I pick it up, it's old and worn it looks hundreds of years old, "What is it?"

"With any luck, the good Doctor's ticket to immortality."

After we made sure the girl was in good hands we made it back to the motel. Sam is reading the journal intently, and I'm just waiting for Dean to call.

My phone begins to vibrate in my pocket, my prayers have been answered. Quickly I hit the answer key and speak.

"Dean!"

"Hey Lena."

"Did you get the Colt?"

"No… I didn't."

"So, does that mean you killed Bela?"

"No, no, she deserves to die a dozen times over, but I couldn't do it."

"It's not who you are, Dean. You're not that kind of man."

Dean doesn't respond right away, but when he does his voice is shaky and broken. "I'm really screwed, Lena."

"Dean, no you're-"

"Sam was right. Bela was a wild goose chase. The Colt's gone, and this time I'm really screwed."

Reaching up I pinch the bridge of my nose, better tell him now. "Maybe not. Sam and I found Benton's cabin."

"You okay?" His voice picks up a little. "Was he there?"

"Yeah he was there."

"Did you kill him?"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" Dean asks harshly.

"There was a girl and she was alive; it's a long story. I'm going to give you to Sam, I'm sure he's found something in this journal by now." A few steps put me next to Sam. I hand him the phone and he starts to talk.

"Dean, hey. Listen to me, I found his lab book and inside it has the formula."

…

"Yeah."

…

"No, that's the thing. It's not black magic. There's no blood sacrifice or anything. It's just science, Dean. Very, very extremely weird science, but..."

…

"Dean, I think it might be doable. I mean, I know we've hit a lot of walls, but I...I think this formula, I think it might be it. This could save you."

…

"Well, I mean, look, look, we're not in the clear yet. There are still things that I don't get..."

Sam is cut off by my muffled scream. I can feel myself fading, the rag over my mouth is removed and my body crumples to the floor. The last thing I see is Sam dropping the phone and everything goes dark.

When I come to I almost immediately recognize where I am: the basement of the cabin. I try to move but I'm strapped down to a table. I can feel that my eyes are getting dry – they're taped open. I struggle against my restraints to no avail.

"You can relax. It's all gonna be okay. Ain't nothin' gonna happen here that you got to worry about, Elena." The voice moves and I can see Doc Benton standing over me with what looks like a melon baller in his hands. "Your chances of coming out of this procedure alive are very, very high."

"How do you know my name?" I barely squeak.

"I know lots of things - immortal and all."

"So what? You're just going to take my eyes right out of their sockets?" I question still struggling to loosen the straps on my wrists. Out of fear and anxiety, my eyes constantly dart every which way and they almost burn with the aching pain.

"This whole eternal-life thing is very high-maintenance. If something goes bad, like my eyes here...you got to replace them. And sometimes things get damaged, like when John Winchester cut out my heart. Now that was very inconvenient." He drawls, out of the corner of my taped open eye I can see the scoop being heated over a flame.

"Sam?! Are you here?" I yell out into the air.

"Yeah, Elena I'm here. You okay?" Sam calls back.

"Yeah I'm f-" I don't get to finish. The Doctor's hand is over my mouth and my sentence is muffled.

"Enough." He commands as he removes his hand. "You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you? Well, I got to tell you; I have never done one thing that I did not have to do. But I think it's time we got this whole thing started."

I can feel the heat wafting off of the hot spoon that is now extremely close to my eye. I don't want to scream but I can't help it, it escapes my lungs as the instrument is mere millimeters away from my eye ball.

Three shots ring out through the basement. The scoop is pulled back from my eye and Benton turns away from me.

"Shoot all you want."

I can hear the Doctor moving, and the gunman lets loose two more bullets. The Doctor throws the person into the wall and I hear a thud as they hit the ground. When they groan from the impact I recognize it immediately, I'd know it anywhere – Dean.

A moment later I hear a plunge, followed by a laugh. "A knife? What part of immortality do you not understand? Pity about the heart, though. It was a brand-new one."

"Good." Dean spits out. "It should be pumping nice and strong, sending this stuff throughout your whole body. See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it."

All I can hear is choking and gasping followed by a thump. Moments later the tape is peeled from my eyelids, allowing them to relax. I close them eagerly and my tear ducts release to desperately hydrate my eyes. I can feel the restraints on my wrist being cut, I force myself to open my weak eyes and see Dean.

"Lena." He breathes.

I nearly launch myself off of the table and into his arms, clutching him tightly. Dean returns the gesture, his arms right around me as he whispers, "I told you to be careful."

"We were… I'm just glad you're here."

Dean doesn't respond with words, he presses a kiss into my hair and releases me. "Let's get Sammy."

When the Doctor wakes he finds the roles are now reversed. He's strapped to the table where Sam had been with Dean leaning over him, smirking.

"Oh, hiya, Doc. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bac-y."

"Please." Benton pleads.

"Please what? You've been killing poor bastards for over 150 years and now you got a request? Shut up."

"No, you don't understand. I can help you. I know what you need."

"We might have to cut him up into little bits." Dean points out as he plays with the blade in his hands. "You know, this immortality thing is a bitch."

"I can read the formula for you. You know...immortality...Forever young, never die."

Dean's concentration on the Doctor doesn't break.

Sam is staring at his brother, watching his every move. "Dean…"

He finally looks up. "Sam."

Sam walks out of the room, nodding at us to follow. Dean immediately rolls his eyes but follows anyway, I'm right behind.

"What?" Dean gruffs out.

"I mean, we're talking hell in three weeks. Or needing a new pancreas in like half a century." Sam's tone is insistent but Dean isn't buying it.

"Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E-Mart."

"It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better. We just need time, Dean. I mean, please, just...just think about it."

Dean deadpans. "No."

"Dean, don't you want to live?" Sam looks directly to me then back to his brother.

Dean looks at me, his eyes desperate but only for a moment before a flicker of changes washes over him. "What he is isn't living. Look, this is simple. Black or white; human, not human."

He walks back over to Benton, picking up a rag he covers it in chloroform and places it over his mouth. "See, what the Doc is, is a freakin' monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to hell."

He looks to me again, I know he's just doing what he thinks is the right thing, so I nod so he knows its okay.

"Now, I'm gonna take care of him. You can either help me or not. It's up to you."

The car ride is quiet, after burying the Doctor we hit the road again. I'm honestly glad to be back on the road, being in the Impala now feels like home, and with everything going on a dose of home is what I need.

We set everything up; Dean knew Bela was coming after us so we just played her first. He dialed the number to the motel room we were in and placed the phone on speaker.

"Hiya, Bela. Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket, when you swiped that motel receipt." Dean's voice came out of his mouth almost comical.

Bela's voice is broken and worn down as it comes through the speaker, "You don't understand."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. An herb. Devil's shoestring? There's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela. And it's come due. Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul?"

"Yes." She whispers.

"But stealing the Colt wasn't enough, I'm guessing." I nearly snarl from the back seat.

"They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam."

"Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Shocker. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too – what time is it?" Dean taps the clock on the dashboard. "Well, look at that, almost midnight."

Bela's crying now, her breathing ragged. "Dean, listen, I need help. I know I don't deserve it."

Dean's wrings his hands around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he drives. "You know what, you're right, you don't. But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

"I know, and saved yourself." Bela sniffles. "I know about your deal, Dean."

"And who told you that?"

"The Demon that holds it. She holds mine too. She said she holds every deal."

"She?"

"Her name's Lilith."

That stops all of us in our tracks, as we exchange glances it feels like the air has been sucked out of the car.

"Lilith?" Dean spits the word out like it left distaste in his mouth. "Why should I believe you?"

"You shouldn't but it's the truth."

"This can't help you, Bela, not now. Why you telling me this?"

"Because just maybe you can kill the bitch."

Dean pauses for a moment before responding, "I'll see you in hell."

He snaps the phone shut and throws it at the seat but it doesn't stop there. He hits the steering wheel while a slew of obscenities flow from his mouth. Soon enough, Sam and I both screaming at him to pull over. Thankfully he does.

Dean jumps out of baby, punching her frame and kicking her tires as he goes. I tell Sam to stay in the car while I scramble to get out and following him.

"Dean!"

He doesn't stop, he keeps walking.

"Dean!"

"What?!" He roars turning around, nearly running at me.

I say nothing; his face is inches from mine. His breathing hot and ragged in my face, his eyes full of anger, but the anger quickly melts into tears forming in his eyes. Sinking to his knees he lets the tears flow, I lower myself next to him and he falls into my arms, his tears hot on my skin.

We don't speak because once we say it out loud, it becomes real.

And the reality is - our fight is over.

A/N:Okay so, I REALLY want to hear your predictions for the final chapter!
Leave your ideas in a review!