Episode Referenced: Season 1, Episode 22 - "Devil's Trap"

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Supernatural, and the characters thereof do not belong to me. I make no profit and this story was written for enjoyment value only.

CHAPTER Ten: Fen Nan (The End)

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

October 31, 2006 (12:00pm)

Bobby had been relieved when they had shown up with Harry, but one look at the still unconscious man had the old hunter cursing a blue streak that surprised even them. Once inside the house, with Harry set up in the spare bedroom, Bobby had set about cleaning and dressing the injuries. Sam and Dean had left him to it, knowing that Bobby had always been closer to Caleb and his son than the Winchesters. They knew he needed the time with Harry. They were waiting patiently in his kitchen when he came out, grim but calmer, and went straight for the fridge.

"How is he?" Dean asked as he watched the older man grab and open a beer.

"He'll live." Bobby looked at the brothers with an angry frown before downing nearly half the bottle. "Though it's a near thing. Without a hospital scan I can't know for certain, but it looks like he has a possible skull fracture and one kidney was ruptured. If his body hadn't put him into a healing coma he'd have bled out internally before anyone found him. I was able to get a couple of his healing potions in to him and his magic is working on knitting him back together. I'd wager he's been under a long time, but he's still got a couple hours to go before he wakes up."

"And you're sure we can't take him to the hospital?" Sam questioned.

"Not unless you want to kill him," Bobby growled. He put aside the bottle and crossed his arms over his chest, all but glaring at the boys. "So. Would you care to explain to me why I had to find Caleb's body and figure out Harry'd been taken by a bunch of goddamn demons without so much as a heads up from any of you Winchesters?"

Both young men blanched but Bobby didn't give them a chance to respond.

"Now you see here, ya ijits," Bobby snarled. "You Winchesters have always had issues with other people getting into your business. That's fair. What ain't is what you're doing to the people who care about you. Not calling, not asking for help, not taking it when its offered, running off to god knows where doing god knows what-"

"We didn't want anyone else hurt!" Dean snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "When Dad went off the grid in Jericho it was because he had a lead on the thing that killed Mom. The Demon is not your run of the mill demon, we've always known that, and look what happened to Jess! To Jim and Caleb! Anyone who gets close to us is just a target for the goddamn thing!"

"Leaving us in the dark," Bobby roared back, "doesn't make us any less of a target! Look at what you've done to that damn kid in lying in a coma in my spare room! You disappeared on him, Dean! That boy has stuck to you two jackasses through thick and thin and the minute you think he's a liability you cut him out! Goddamn it; you two were family to Harry!"

"We never meant to hurt him, Bobby." Sam leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at his feet uncomfortably.

"You Winchesters never do," Bobby huffed. "Dean, Harry may forgive someday; but you Sam? You don't have the luxury of using that Demon of yours as an excuse. You abandoned him and Dean. You were ashamed of your past and family and it was easier to pretend the rest of us didn't exist in your idea of a normal life. Well, guess what Sammy boy; your normal life got your girl killed because you weren't watching your back like you were raised. Your normal life cost you the friendship of the only other person, beside your brother, who could understand how you grew up and what you'd been through. "

"That's not fair, Bobby," Dean growled protectively.

"No, it ain't," Bobby agreed. "But, you can't tell me he was prepared. He dropped the ball, Dean."

"You're right," Sam acknowledged. "A few protection circles, salt on the windows and doors, any number of small things that could have been explained to Jess as religious beliefs - and she would have gone with it - could have kept her alive. I've accepted that her death isn't my fault, but I sure as hell didn't prevent it either."

"Well bully for you," Bobby snapped. "But that means nothing right now. Right now the shit's hit the fan. Your business is no longer yours alone. Jim and Caleb have paid for it with their lives and it cost Harry the only family he's known. Now, this is some serious crap you boys have stepped in. Normal year I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us - a lot more."

"Do you know why?" Sam asked uneasily.

The older man shook his head. "No, but I know it's something big. The storm's coming and you boys, your Daddy, you are smack in the middle of it and taking the rest of us with you."

Their conversation was interrupted by the barking of a dog outside and Bobby quickly got up and bolted from the kitchen. Sam and Dean followed him and found him in the living room looking out the window. A moment later, the barking stopped with a pitiful whine and Bobby was cursing softly. "Something's wrong."

The three men had no chance to move before the front door was exploding inward. The petite blonde that entered as if she owned the place had Dean reaching for the flask of holy water in his pocket.

Meg observed the hunters with a frown. "No more crap, okay?"

Ever the impulsive one, Dean lunged for the girl while unscrewing the flask. Meg was ready for him and, with a vicious backhand and her demon strength, sent him flying across the room and into a large stack of books. He didn't get back up. Torn between checking on his brother and attacking her himself, Sam placed himself in front of Bobby.

"I want the Colt, Sam!" The lithe woman glowered at the hunter. "The real Colt! Right now!"

Bobby took several steps back, Sam moving to keep himself between the older man and possessed woman. "We don't have it on us." He stalled, even as she followed him and Bobby while they continued to back away. "We buried it."

"Didn't I say, 'No more crap'?" She huffed, stalking after them. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you I'm a little underwhelmed! Witch Boy and his Daddy were more of a challenge before I introduced their outsides to their insides! First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it."

Meg spun around, meeting Dean's smug lit eyes with a confused frown. He smirked at her then looked up at the ceiling. As if unable to help it, the demon looked up as well. Scrawled directly over her head was a heptagram composed of two pentacles.

"Gotcha."

oOOooOOooOOooOOo

He didn't want to wake up.

The pain was there, clawing and digging into him even through the black of nothingness. The hurt wasn't the only thing drawing him back; shouting and screaming and chanting. The black gave way to grey and his body twitched as he returned to his senses. The pain was fading, a pleasant numbness erasing everything but the gnawing ache in his heart and soul. That pain, he knew, would never fade.

Opening green eyes, Harry stared up at the familiar ceiling of Bobby's spare room. The last thing he remembered was the demons saying John had shown up for the exchange. He knew Yellow-Eyes and the rest wouldn't have let him go, even if John had given them what they wanted, but he had no idea what happened after that bitch had knocked him out.

Through the closed door he could hear Sam's voice chanting the familiar Latin phrases of an exorcism. Pushing back the blankets covering him, his chest bare and dressed in a faded pair of sweats he'd left at Bobby's place, he tentatively set his feet on the rough carpeted floor. The world tilted and he felt a throbbing pain at the base of his skull. He breathed in harshly between his lips as he fought the nausea he recognized as a symptom of a concussion. After a few seconds it was already passing and he was vaguely aware of the aftertaste of several potions on his tongue.

When he was able to see clearly again, he saw both his wands on the bedside table and scooped up the holly wand before rising to his feet. He was shaky on his legs but a few steps toward the door had him steadying. He opened it quietly before making his way down the small hall, all the while listening to what was going on. Sam's chanting had stopped.

"Where is he?!" Dean's voice thundered through the house.

"Dead!"

Harry faltered and pressed his hand against the wall at the sound of the bitch's voice. It was pained and strained and Harry wanted nothing more than to be the one causing her that pain.

"No, he's not! He can't be!" Dean yelled. "What are you looking at? Keep reading!"

The chanting started again accompanied by a whine from Meg. It went on for a few seconds and Harry started forward again when Meg screamed, "He will be!"

"Wait!" Dean snapped and the incantation stopped. "What?"

"He's not dead," Meg moaned, "but he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Sam!"

"A building!" Meg's panicked exclamation interrupted Sam before he could resume the exorcism. "Okay? In Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Dean clarified. "Where? An Address!"

"I don't know!"

Harry finally made it to the end of the hall and could just see into the living room from where he stood. He was able to see Sam standing there with a book in his hands, looking into the room and the scene taking place there.

"And the Demon?" Sam inquired gravely. "The one we're looking for, where is it?"

"I don't know! I swear, that's everything; that's all I know."

"Finish it." Dean growled.

"What? I told you the truth!"

"I don't care!" Dean responded.

"You son of a bitch!" Meg screamed. "You promised!"

"I lied! Sam?" Dean's remark had Harry smiling a little only to lose it when the younger hunter didn't begin reading. "Sam! Read!"

Sam hesitated and his voice was low when he spoke, but Harry was close enough to hear. "Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the Demon is."

"She doesn't know." Dean's response was just as quiet, but he was standing next to his brother now so Harry heard that too.

"She lied."

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there!" Dean's words resonated inside Harry and the dark haired hunter frowned. "We've got to help her."

"You're going to kill her," Bobby's voice snarled inside the room. "You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die."

The old man was right. Meg Masters was a dead girl walking, and Harry was pleased when Dean's voice echoed his own thoughts.

"Listen to me, both of you: we are not going to leave her like that."

Harry bit back a grunt of pain as he suddenly moved again, jerking across the entrance and toward the living room.

"She is a human being," Bobby tried one last time.

"And you're going to put her out her misery," Harry told them as he leaned his weary body against the entrance frame.

The three men looked at him in surprise, none of them having heard him approaching. The demon tied to the chair, trapped beneath an impressive looking devil's trap, stared at him with fear burning in her eyes. He could feel her magic reaching out for his but it stopped short, held at bay by the power of the devil's trap.

"Sam," Dean said with eerie calm, "finish it."

Taking a deep breath, the tallest hunter turned back to the possessed girl and resumed chanting. The men watched as the girl thrashed around in her bindings and Harry didn't resist the surge or satisfaction he got her head snapped back and she screamed as the demonic entity was spewed out of her mouth. The thick, black cloud churned within the confines of the ceiling trap while Sam finished the exorcism. When he was done, the demon was gone; banished back to hell.

Meg's body went limp in the chair and blood flowed past her lips and dripped onto her lap. The silence of the room was oppressive and they were all startled when the girl's head lifted slowly with a sharp groan of pain.

"She's still alive!" Dean was the first to rush forward, sliding in to the devil's trap without a second thought. "Bobby, call 9-1-1; get some water and blankets."

Harry stood there, conflicting emotions broiling under his skin as he watched Bobby bolt for the kitchen and the brother's working to untie her. They were comforting her, trying to keep her calm, and when they lifted her from the chair Harry could hear her bones grinding against one another. Her scream, so alike and yet so different from the one the demon made, had Harry pushing away from the wall.

"Move!" Harry demanded, pushing weakly against Dean to kneel beside the dying girl.

Dean's eyes were wide as he realized what the wizard intended. "Harry-"

"Shut-up," he snapped and held the wand with trembling hand over the blonde. It was a struggle, at first, to pull his magic away from healing his own injuries and to focus it on the girl. He could hear her gasping for each breath as she talked to the brothers.

"A year... It's been... a year."

"Shhh," Sam told her and Harry could see the younger man holding on to her hand. "Just take it easy."

"Shut-up, all of you!" Harry snarled before falling into the magic.

Her body was so broken. Nearly every bone was fractured; organs punctured and torn apart; a gunshot to her chest; that she was still breathing was a miracle. In his peripheral vision he could see the Reaper encroaching on them both.

"Don't..." Meg's voice sounded in his mind as his magic fought to pull her back together. "I killed him..."

Harry swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "Do you want to die..."

"I was awake... for some of it... I couldn't move my own body... The things I did... it's a nightmare..."

"It wasn't you... "

Minutes or hours, Harry couldn't tell how long passed. His body felt weak, the potions Bobby had fed him hadn't long to work, and his magic fought against the instinctual need to heal him first. But Harry was nothing, if not stubborn, and he kept his power flowing into the woman who had been a prisoner of evil for so long.

When he finally withdrew, his body was shaking and his vision fading. He felt strong arms grab hold of him when he pitched to the side, keeping him upright even as the wand fell from his hand. He heard voices calling his name but he didn't respond. He just let the black take him again.

oOOooOOooOOooOOo

"You with me, Kiddo?"

Harry opened his eyes sooner and with greater ease than he expected. All around him was white but he could make out the view from Jim's back porch among the near oppressive white. He was surprised at the lack of pain he felt, considering he had been hurting since -

"Dad!" Harry turned to the voice that had spoke.

Caleb was smiling softly from where he stood next to his son, and eagerly returned the crushing embrace the younger man enveloped him in. "It's all right, Harry."

"You're dead," Harry moaned with his eyes clenched shut. "You and Jim and-" He reared back an regarded his father in relief. "And me. If I'm here with you, then-"

Motioning for them to take a seat on the porch steps, Caleb shook his head. "You're not dead, Harry. And if I have anything to say about you won't be for a very long time."

Harry slumped heavily onto the stair next to his father. "But-"

"No," the man snapped."You're hurt, Son, badly, and turning your magic away from yourself to heal that girl-"

"She was innocent in all this!" He huffed.

Caleb smiled and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know, Harry, and it was a good thing to do. Not necessarily the right thing, given your state, but a good thing. You're just lucky Bobby has been keeping a store of potions the last couple of years."

"So I'm not dead," Harry sighed.

"No, you're not." His father squeezed his shoulder and he leaned in to the touch. "Harry, I'm gone. I just - I needed to see you one last time before I moved on. Death owed me - apparently it wasn't meant to be my time - and needed someone to play messenger. We figured you'd take it better from me than a Reaper."

With a frown, Harry asked "Take what?"

"Something's coming, Harry." Caleb said grimly. "Something big and something very, very bad. That Yellow Eyed son of a bitch has thrown off the balance. People are dying who shouldn't be and there are a hell of a lot more monsters and demons topside than ever. Death knows the endgame but isn't sharing the details."

"What does that have to do with me?"

His father sighed."You, the Winchesters, Bobby; you're all in the eye of the storm. What it all means, I have no idea but I do know that you - all of you - are all that stands between Yellow-Eyes and his goals. He has to be stopped, Harry."

"The Winchester's have that Colt," Harry reminded him, "the one the demon's are afraid of. They don't need me. I - I don't want to die, Dad, but I don't want to go back to a world without you either!"

Caleb reached over and grabbed onto the back of Harry's neck comfortingly, pulling father and son together until their foreheads were touching. "A child is meant to bury their parent. It's how it's suppose to be."

"They can stop him without me!"

"Maybe," Caleb agreed, pulling back to look his son in the eyes, "but it would be a lot harder and a lot more people could die."

Harry frowned and sighed. "Low blow, Dad."

"I know how you tick," The older man chuckled. "I can't stay much longer; you're body's responding to the potions and you'll be waking up shortly."

"It's too soon," Harry whispered, wiping angrily at the moisture in his eyes.

"There's a reason for everything," Caleb said and tugged his son into a warm hug. "Why you were given Xezbeth's blood; why your powers keep growing; why it's time for you to go it without me now. I would have been a liability in this fight, Harry. I would have weakened you and given the evil sons of bitches a means of getting to you."

"You make me stronger!" Harry insisted, burying his face in the man's shoulder. "When I first met you I was helpless and pathetic and you changed that! You and Jim! And now you're both gone! How am I suppose to keep fighting when what I was fighting for isn't there anymore?"

"We'll always be there, Son," Caleb assured him. "Death isn't an ending; we, better than most, know that for a fact. For now, keep fighting. There's more to fight for than just me and Jim. You just have to find it."

"I don't want to," he said petulantly.

Caleb laughed and pulled back from his son. He met Harry's gaze with one filled with a myriad of emotions but none more prevalent than the love from a father to his son. "We had a good run, Harry. I am proud of the man you've become; proud to call you my Son."

"Don't say good-bye!" Harry said frantically as he felt the world around him fading.

"Never," Caleb leaned in and kissed his forehead, but the touch was fleeting as the white gave way to black."It's your turn to take care of Bobby."

"Dad! Don't go!"

"Stay safe, son."

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

October 31, 2006 (6:30pm)

Dean sat in the chair, staring unseeing at the book on his lap. He flipped through the pages absently before sighing and tossing it onto the floor beside him. He leaned back in his chair, pale green eyes going to the man in the bed who hadn't moved in nearly six hours.

When Harry had collapsed, blood flowing from his nose and ear, Dean had honestly thought his friend had killed himself healing Meg. With everything that had happened in the last two days it was not a feeling Dean wanted to ever feel again. He screwed up his friendship with Harry but maybe there was time to fix it.

"I never wanted to push you away," he heard himself speaking before he realized it. The unconscious hunter didn't respond, but maybe it was better this way. "After Sam left I know the only reason he called those first few months was because he was with you. I was able to take care of Dad better because I knew Sam was safe with you. You were as much a big brother to him as I ever have been.

"He talked to you so much more than he did to me. I know he told you about the Kitsune when we were younger, and I only know because you told him I'd be okay with it. And I honestly was. I should have been all kinds of jealous of you but how could I when you were there for me just as much as you were for him.

"When Sam stopped calling, you started. I know you made a point of calling me each week just to relay what you knew about him. You have no idea how sane you kept me doing that. Even when he stopped calling and talking to you, you kept calling. After Cassie... God, Harry, I don't think I could have handled it half as well as I did if you weren't there. I would have ended up in some dive, passed out drunk, or dead in a ditch somewhere.

"With every hunt we took on, ever conversation we had, you were taking his place. I know that's not exactly a good thing, but you were my little brother too Harry. I've been looking after the kid for so long that when he took off I didn't know what to do with myself. But then you let me take care of you.

"Do you remember the hunt in upstate New York; outside Tupper Lake? That water sprite wrecked you, Man, and I thought I'd have to tell Caleb how I got his son killed. I couldn't heal you like you did for me, and I didn't know squat about your Healing potions. I just thank god Bobby and Caleb were able to get to us in time. I think that was the moment I realized you weren't just my friend. You were family. Are family."

Dean rubbed his hand over his face and let his hands drop into his lap. "I felt guilty." He confessed reluctantly, staring at his palms. "Dad went missing and I didn't call Sam, I called you. I needed you to reassure me that he was okay; that even if he wasn't that you'd be there helping me. That's why I went to California. That's why I got Sam to help me with the hunt in Jericho. Sam is John's son; he had to be the one looking for the son of a bitch. But you...

"Goddamn it, Harry, I never meant to cut you out. I just felt so goddamn guilty every time I started to call you, even with Sam right there. Eventually, I just... stopped. No explanation, not excuses, and I know that was probably the shittiest thing I could have ever done. I ran away. Plain and simple. I was a coward."

"You're not a coward."

Dean's head snapped up and he saw his brother standing in the doorway; he hadn't even realized Sam was there. "Uh, hey... how's Meg?"

"Dealing," Sam replied and stepped further in to the room. "Don't change the subject. You are not, nor have you ever been, a coward."

Shifting in his chair uncomfortably, Dean rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Sam-"

"I get it, Dean." the younger man snapped, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "I bailed on you and Dad. Harry was there for you. Hell, he was there for me too in the beginning and would still have been if I had let him. He's pissed at us, and that's on me."

"This is not your fault, Sammy." Dean growled with a shake of his head. "I cut him out just like you did."

"No, you did it because of me." Sam looked over at the figure on the bed and sighed. "I can't change what happened, it's too late for that. But I can damn well try to make up for it. I was talking to Meg, trying to see if she could remember where they've taken Dad. She doesn't remember everything, but she's got bits and pieces of the last year. She does, however, remember quite clearly how excited the demons were to get their hands on Harry. Especially that yellow-eyed bastard. Whatever happens with Dad and the Colt, they're going to coming for him."

"They'll have to get through us first," the older man spat viciously. "Bad enough they got Dad, they're not getting Harry! Not again!"

"The Winchesters have gone Chick Flick... I've died and this is hell."

Both men startled at the sudden gravelly voice and Dean was leaping from the chair. "Harry?" The dark haired hunter was shifting on the bed, lifting himself up onto his elbow and squinting against the harsh overhead light. Dean was right beside him, helping the other man into a steadier position. "Get Bobby, Sam."

The taller man practically bolted from the room.

"I'm all right, Dean," Harry insisted even as Dean propped up the pillows behind Harry's back to support him. "How's Meg?"

Shaking his head in amazement, Dean settled on the foot of the bed. "Leave it to you to be worried about some chick when you nearly died on us. Again."

"She's not just some chick," Harry corrected. "She's a chick with information. And I didn't nearly die."

"Dude, your brain was virtually leaking out of your ear! You stopped breathing, twice! Yeah, you nearly died!" Dean paused in his rant and frowned. "And what information? Meg barely remembers her time possessed."

"Maybe, but the demon that was riding inside her shared her mind and body for over a year. It's in there, we just have to help her find it."

"Find what?" A timid voice said from the doorway. The small spare room was suddenly crowded as Sam and Bobby entered, Bobby moving to the bedside to check on the young man, and Meg stayed where she stood against the frame.

"A location," Harry clarified while Bobby checked his vitals, which Harry took much calmer and better than Dean would have. "A name, anything that might give us a lead on where to find old Yellow-Eyes."

The petite blonde sucked her lower lips between her teeth. "A name. What could you do with a name?"

Everyone stopped and looked at her. "A demon's name? It's true name?" Bobby queried gruffly.

She nodded. "I don't know which one, exactly, but there's a name I remember that was definitely not for one of the human hosts."

"You give us the name we can summon the thing." Harry told her, pushing off the blankets covering him despite the glare Bobby levelled him. "We get it here, trap it, interrogate it, then go hunting Yellow Eyes and find John."

"You sure you're up for it?" Sam asked, obviously having see how pale their friend was when Harry swung his feet onto the floor.

"I feel like shit," Harry admitted, leveling an annoyed stare Sam's way. "But if Bobby has a couple of energy restoratives and Pepper-Up potions, then I'll be more than capable of a summoning ritual."

"You already pushed yourself once today, Harry," Dean stood from the bed when Harry did, cupping the other man's elbow when he wavered. "And you weren't exactly in top form then either."

Dean could see Harry was getting frustrated with the coddling and let go of the arm when green eyes turned and glared at him. "Do you not what to find your father? Because the way you two are trying to talk me out of it really makes me wonder! Now unless you're wanting to figure it out first hand, let me just tell you this: having your Dad die while you do nothing to stop it really suck's ass!"

And really, there was nothing else to say after that. Dean just turned away from the penetrating stare and looked over at Meg. "What's the name?"

"Azazel."

oOOooOOooOOooOOo

Less than an hour later, three hunters and a girl stood outside the panic room in Bobby' s basement. Dean had been impressed with the set up - iron frame coated in salt, devil trap's in the ceiling, covering the entire floor, and outside the door - and it had only taken the men a few minutes to clear the room of everything. Now they stood there, the Colt ready in Dean's hand if need be, watching through the open door as Harry finished purifying the room with a smudge stick made of sage and acacia.

"I don't like this," Dean murmured to the others. "He's going to be inside that room, along, with that thing."

"The books say Azazel's not your run of the mill demon either," Sam responded just as quietly. "It's a Grigori, and whatever it's doing here on Earth can't be good."

"They feared him," Meg commented. "The other demons; I remember that. The one that possessed me revered him, even called him Father, but was terrified of him."

Harry spared them a quick glance before kneeling with his back against the far wall. He was on a clear spot between two points of the larger star of the devil's trap on the floor, the largest spot in the room where the demon's sigil wouldn't interfere with the trap's power. With a thick piece of chalk he began sketching the sigil they had found on the floor in front of him.

"What if it's that yellow-eyed bastard himself?" Dean wondered, his stomach clenched with worry. "The demons want Harry as much as they want the Colt. This just feels like we're handing him over to them on a silver platter."

"Once inside the trap it's powers will be bound." Bobby's tone belied his attempt at reassuring them; he was just as worried as they were. "It won't be able to hurt Harry."

"Maybe not with its mojo," Dean snarled, fingers curling and uncurling around the handle of the gun agitatedly. "But Harry's still not up to snuff; that thing - whatever he's summoning - could do a lot of damage before I got a shot off."

No one said anything after than as all of them saw Harry lift his hand above a small ceramic bowl and slice his palm with the tip of his wand. He was incanting in Latin, his words low and hard to hear, and his blood was dripping into the powder and oil mixture in the bowl. Six large, black pillar candles were lit in the circle of the sigil and Harry's knees were touching the symbol's point closest to him. Thirteen crimson drops fell before he pulled his hand away and lit a match.

With one last glance at his audience, Harry dropped the small bit of fire into the bowl. The flash it caused was bright but quick, the flames fading only seconds later. When the last flickered out, however, Harry was no longer alone in the panic room.

Dressed in faded jeans, a dark button down shirt, and a dark brown leather jacket, the man standing between the wizard and the hunters was an all too familiar figure. With an amused grin twisting the lips, John Winchester's glowing yellow eyes flicked to the four gathered outside. "I hope you'll excuse us but this is a private conversation."

"No!" Dean bellowed when the door suddenly slammed shut of its own accord, leaping forward and grabbing hold of the handle. He pushed on it but it was held in place by an unseen force. Even when Sam was suddenly beside him, slamming his body against it, it didn't give. "HARRY!"

Inside the room, the green-eyed hunter hadn't bothered moving. As soon as he felt the ritual complete he knew something had gone wrong. He could feel the demon's power surging around him, caressing and flowing over his body. He wasn't surprised when the door had shut, locking him inside with the demon possessed John.

"Right idea, poor execution," Azazel chortled with John's voice over the pounding on the door. He was gesturing to the various demon traps. "Holy water, the traps, exorcisms; things like that don't work on a thing like me. Though you got the iron right. I can't actually cross over the stuff, which is quite annoying I tell you. "

He stopped looking around and focused on Harry. "Now, you conjuring me? I honestly didn't see that one coming. I expected Tweedle Dee and Dumb out there to come to the rescue of their old man with guns blazing."

"They still might," Harry commented, seeing Dean's furious face through the window in the door. "You going to kill me, Azazel?"

"If I have to," the demon admitted, moving to stand directly in front of the still kneeling man. "I'm rather hoping you'll be more open to a partnership, if you will."

Harry looked up at the man, meeting gold flecked eyes as they faded into John's normal brown. "A partnership?"

John smiled widely, the look totally foreign on his face. "You are very powerful, Harry. More so than many of the demons I find myself forced to work with. Such inferior creatures to someone like you. I need a job done; one I was hoping little Sammy Winchester would have done for me." Outside the room, the pounding stopped as that statement caught everyone's attention. "But you, Harry, are so much more ideal - I don't even have to put in the time and effort of training you! You already know what your powers can do! Not like Sam. No, Sam would take at least another year before he grew in to his powers."

"What powers?" Harry scowled, wondering what the thing was talking about.

Azazel chuckled his amusement. "So many secrets you boys have! Sam is special, Harry. Not quite like you, of course, but he had talent. Natural born gifts that were amplified by the blood of a demon. Yours with Xezbeth; Sam with mine."

Harry looked past John's shoulder and met the horrified eyes of Dean through the glass. It had been a decade since the young wizard had learned the truth; ten years that he had kept it secret from everyone he called family, save for Caleb. And now it seemed as if Sam had demon blood in him just like Harry.

He swallowed and forced attention back to the demon. "What's the job?"

"A simple thing," John's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, "Wouldn't take more than a few minutes of your time, actually. We can discuss the exact details when we've a little more privacy. There's just one little question you need to ask me, Harry."

The thing looked down on Harry expectantly and the kneeling man didn't disappoint. " What's in it for me?"

"Harry, don't!" Dean shouted through the door, resuming his efforts to break the door open.

Crouching down to meet Harry's gaze directly, Azazel all but purred his answer. "I can bring him back."

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dropped over his head. Harry's eyes closed of their own accord and his mind reeled . John's heavy hand fell to the top of his head and stroked his hair in a parody of comfort. "Your father, Caleb; I can bring him back to you. Whole and healthy and alive. I wouldn't even want your soul, despite how fun it might be to get you down into the pit."

When there was no immediate response from the stunned wizard, the demon pushed. "Think about it, Harry. No deadline, no impending visit by my hell hounds. Just you and your Dad for the rest of your natural lives. I'll even throw in the clause that neither myself nor my followers would raise a finger against either of you for as long as you both live. All you have to do is agree to do this one, little job at a date of my choosing."

The words were like a balm, soothing the ache in his heart he had felt since the moment Caleb had died. He didn't have to live in a world where he was alone...

"Xezbeth did me a favor, really." Azazel went on. "Boosting your magic the way he did has given me a ready-made General worthy to stand at my side."

Harry's eyes snapped open and he fixed a venomous glare on the demon host before him. "You mean like this?"

John's body was suddenly flung across the room and pinned to the wall several feet above the floor. The demon's eyes flashed yellow and Harry could feel it's magic bucking against his own as he smoothly got to his feet.

"You called me a General," Harry snarled, tightening his hold on his wand and using his rage to press his magic harder against the struggling demon. "Which means a War. Except I won't go to war for you, Azazel. But I sure as hell will go to war against you!"

With an inhuman roar, Azazel broke free of Harry's power and retaliated with a blast of his own. It bashed into the wizard and slammed him hard against the wall. He fell to the floor, the breath knock out of his lungs, but managed to keep his hold on his wand. He was getting to his hands and knees when the demon was suddenly in front of him again and grabbing him by the throat.

Lifting Harry off his feet, hammering him against the wall, the yellow-eyes of the demon bore into him. "What a pain in the ass you've been!" He sneered, tightening his grip on the airway and preventing the wizard from regaining his breath. "Really! Since you came into the picture you've made it that much harder to get at these jackasses! You protected them from the Daevas, you've protected them from my children, you keep getting in the way! Mary got in my way, so did dear Jess! I should just kill you now, but you're just so damn useful!"

Azazel stepped even closer until John's body was keeping Harry pinned to the wall as much as the hand around his throat. Harry fought against the grip, digging his finger into pressure points and clawing his fingernails into the skin. His magic railed against the demon's, fighting and scrambling to get the oppressive power as it worked to seal his core much like the demon possessing Meg had done.

Azazel ignored it all.

"Since you won't make a deal," the demon spat, "why don't I just ride you instead."

Harry's eyes widened in terror as the yellow glow to John's eyes began to swirl and his head tilted closer to Harry's. John's lips parted and Harry could see the black cloud gathering at the back of the man's throat. The opened mouth settled over his own lips and Harry's magic pushed a barrier in the way of the demonic entity that threatened to invade his body. It was enough for the moment, but he was weakening and wouldn't last long.

"Get the fuck off him!" Dean's voice was loud and clear.

As he had prepared to switch hosts, Azazel's power had fluctuated and the force keeping the door from opening faltered. Dean wasted no time bursting into the room and aiming the gun at the thing possessing his father.

John's head lifted away from Harry's and the yellow returned strongly in the older man's eyes. Without moving or letting go of the barely conscious Wizard, the turned his head toward the doors. Dean stood there with the Colt pointed and steady while Sam and Bobby had spread out behind him.

Azazel smiled. "Isn't this the nice family reunion. Your Dad? He's in here with me; trapped in his own meat suit. He says 'hi' by the way." He focussed on Harry again and squeezed the hand circling the other man's throat. Harry's body stopped fighting and his eyes fluttered shut. "He's going to do what he's wanted to all these years. He's going to kill the witch-boy!"

"Let them go, or I swear to God-"

"What?" Azazel roared, snapping his head back around to glare at them. "What are you and God going to do? You kill me, you kill Daddy!"

"I know." Dean didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger.

The bullet tore into the meat of John's leg and the possessed man fell to the ground, taking Harry with him. A ragged gasp tore through the room as the hand fell away from Harry's throat and Bobby wasted no time in rushing forward and pulling the young hunter away from the Demon.

"Bobby?" Dean demanded, keeping the gun aimed at his downed father. Flecks of magic flickered around the bleeding wound.

Bobby's hands ran over the gasping man, gently fingering the bruises already forming around the windpipe. There didn't seem to be any fractures and no other injuries were visible. "He's good."

"Dean!" John's head lifted and his face was terse, strained, but the brown eyes were filled with a familiar intensity. " It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!"

"Dean, don't do it!" Sam was suddenly behind his brother, pleading with the older man. "Don't you do it!"

Dean's hold on the gun never wavered as he adjusted the aim of the Colt.

"You've got to hurry," John grunted as he fought for control of his own body. " I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Dean!"

"Dean, no!"

John suddenly clenched his teeth and his head slammed back into the floor. Then he started chuckling. When he looked at the brothers again, his eyes were a sickly yellow once more. Ignoring the wound in the leg, Azazel easily climbed to his feet with a victorious smile on his lips. "Face it, boys, as long as I'm inside dear old Daddy, you won't kill me."

"But I will! Avraka Davra!"

Despite almost being strangled to death, Harry's voice was strong and commanding as he snapped out the spell. Before either Winchester could turn their attention to him, a sharp green light leapt from the tip of his wand and raced the short distance toward John's prone body, striking dead center on the man's chest.

The light flared across the entirety of the body as it flowed through John. When it immerged from the other side there was a black mass swirling within it. John crumpled to the ground unmoving. Exploding into a web of bright green tendrils, that plunged into and coiled around the foreign entity, the black cloud churned and screamed. The web pulsed several times, constricting and growing smaller each time, until it vanished in a burst of green light.

The concrete beneath the sigil of Azazel cracked and the white chalk turned black. A moment later it vanished all together.

No one moved.

Panting for breath, Harry let his arm and wand drop to his lap and slumped into Bobby where he sat cradled against the man's chest. Sam was suddenly pushing past Dean, who still hadn't lowered the Colt, and crouching next to his father. At the younger man's touch, John stirred and lifted himself into a sitting position with his son's help.

"Dad?" Dean asked hesitantly.

John looked at him with a warm smile. "Yeah, Dean. It's only me in here."

Finally lowering the Colt, Dean bolted forward and fell to his knees next to his father. Arms wrapped around both sons as John drew his children to him. Over Dean's shoulder he caught Harry's eyes. They didn't say anything, but Harry could see the gratitude in the man's expression.

It was over.