Summary: Forced to enter a truce with the Metatron, the Winchesters figure out a plan to track down Adam while still protecting Nyx. Meg and Castiel fight the monsters' attempts at torture, though they know that there is now something starting to poison the demon.

Part 8: Broken (When Angels Fall)
Part 1

Dean peeked out from behind the curtains of the motel window and squinted at the overcast sky. The cold autumn air and the rain starting to fall made the small town grey and dingy, something more depressing than he liked. Considering the circumstances, maybe it had been too much to hope for some warmth and sunshine. It was hard enough to appear light-hearted for the sake of a child, Dean found, especially when the weather wasn't cooperating.

The Winchesters had been taking turns watching over Nyx; neither trusted the small locks on the door or the wards they had lined the walls and windows with to really protect them. All it would take was a monster to get wind of them here and they'd be on the run again. They'd be completely exposed and there would be no one to bail them out.

"I don't like this, Sammy," Dean said as he drew the curtain sharply over the glass. "We're having to trust angels again and we both know how that usually goes for us."

Sam adjusted his long legs before he handed Nyx another slice of apple from his bowl. "We're going to have to do something," he answered as he felt Nyx tuck into him, her eyes on the history channel he had been watching.

She was always a shadow to one of them now, scared of being left alone, and neither of them had had the heart to leave her anyway. Nyx was frightened and too little, in Sam's opinion, to fully understand everything. She just knew someone had hurt her parents and that she had to stay safe.

His brother picked up the spare angel sword he'd grabbed from the trunk and tossed it into their duffel bag full of weapons. "It's been half a day, Sam. God knows if whatever Metatron figures out is actually going to help us, you get me?"

Nyx looked up, mouth full of fruit as she blurted out, "He's gonna help."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You get older, kid, you learn not to trust everyone you meet."

Her lips pursed. "He's gonna help," she insisted. "You wrong."

"She's arguing with me, Sam!" Dean said and Sam snickered at his offended look. "Real funny, she's probably getting it from you."

"She's three, Dean," he said before he stretched his arms out to the side. Nyx copied him, right down to his loud yawn, and he gave her a smile before ruffling her hair. "Copying is how she learns, remember?"

"Like how I taught you to swear?" Dean grinned in memory and Sam glared at him.

"I think Cas won't be thrilled if you teach a three year old girl to swear like you taught me to."

"Yeah, well." Turning around, Dean peeked out the curtains again. "Let's just hope we get to him in time so he can get angry at us."

Sam threw a balled up sock at the back of his head and when Dean looked at him, he pointed at Nyx. She was staring at them both in turns, clearly trying to understand. Gesturing again while glaring at him, Sam patted her back and handed her another apple slice. "It's all right, Nyx. We're going to get your dad and mom back."

Nyx huffed and then nodded as she turned back to the dinosaur program. "Good."

Dean let himself smile a little at how seriously she was watching the television before he walked away from the door again. "What is taking him so long?" he muttered aloud as he paced the floor in front of the television, ignoring Sam and Nyx's grumbles that he was in their way.

The door suddenly swung open and a surly voice was already complaining before either brother turned around.

"Did you know that, hundreds of years ago, an angel working so closely with humans would be punishable with torture? Especially after he had been ordered back to Heaven with the rest of them?"

Spinning around on his heel, Dean stared at the Metatron, who had appeared with his arms full of books and maps. Marv's glasses had slid down from his eyes and he kept wrinkling his nose to try to push them back as he shuffled over to the table to set his books down. It was hard still to reconcile the former King of Heaven and a master manipulator with this mousy man who looked like a librarian.

"Then why are you here?"

The Metatron shrugged a shoulder. "I'm a masochist, apparently." He started going through the stack of books and maps, blowing dust off the covers of several. "But I have what we need. Though it could still be my death sentence to help my brother out, we did have a deal. So once I point you there we…."

"We?" Dean walked over and picked up a book to look at it. "Since when is there a 'we'?"

Marv snatched the book out of his hands. "These are delicate! First and only of their kind and your hands are—" He held Dean's wrist as if just the sight of his fingers was offensive. "—too rough. You'll ruin something."

Dean rolled his eyes but let it go. "You were saying?"

"I figured that there is a 'we' because I am providing you with information. I found where they are and you are going to need to read up on actual monster lore that could help. Not some sort of hunter bias. It is all 'kill the beast', 'stab first, ask questions later' with your lot sometimes and you don't look for the actual psychology behind it." He picked up another book and a map.

Dean and Sam glanced at each other as Marv's voice took on an almost scholarly condescension.

"There are quite a few stories that you probably never heard of, and the ones about Eve? About monsters who start to try to turn other creatures? Stomach turning. At least, the ones I remember reading are."

Still sitting on the side, Nyx sniffed and rubbed at her nose while looking up at Sam. "That bad?"

"Yeah, Nyx, that's bad," Sam muttered, as he turned off the TV and stood up from the bed. "She shouldn't hear this."

"Why not?" The Metatron looked over the rim of his glasses at the girl. "She's already going to be involved, one way or another."

"She's three and she's a little girl."

Marv still eyed Nyx as he plucked another map out of the pile. "They are her parents, aren't they? They're the ones who did it to protect her and she knows it. Don't try to fool a child, boys; they are the last ones you can deceive."

Both men looked at Nyx, who smiled at them, and they shrugged.

"He's got a point," Sam said. "I think I heard worse when I was little and you kept giving me sugary cereal so I'd forget Dad was out on a hunt."

Dean smirked. "Minus the sugar high, it worked."

"Cute. Thanks for the trip down nostalgia lane." Marv rolled out a map of the local town. "It wasn't hard to find them. Followed my nose more than anything else. Whatever this 'Adam' is doing to the demons, it is leaving an odour. Like… like sulphur mixed with algae. Positively reeks. The turned monsters even leave a sign."

"What kind of sign?" Dean asked as he helped him weigh the map down.

"Like an aura. It's not visible to humans." He snapped his fingers. "You know how you can track something and just feel it around sometimes? Like a bad feeling?"

Both brothers nodded.

"Same thing. Their souls leave behind a residue thanks to how their change goes." He tapped his finger along the river-line. "Abandoned places, thanks to the way companies have been closing down their factories. That makes it really easy for these monsters to find a den to hide in. This one is on the outskirts. Close to the river."

Sam began to rummage through the duffel bags. "Did anyone see you?"

"As you probably noticed, this vessel is pretty inconspicuous," Marv said as he traced his fingers along the river. "This is the best way in."

Rubbing his bearded chin, the Metatron turned and picked up one of the books he had dropped and laid it down. "The place was full of Enochian wards. Not necessarily to keep someone out but I could feel it draining on me. Someone in there knows something about angels."

"If the monsters are attached to demons, they might be retaining their memories," Sam muttered as he looked at the map and began to carefully calculate distance and time.

"It means that those will have to be destroyed. Do that, then at least Castiel can move out easier." Marv smirked. "Pretty sure little brother can handle himself if you get him set free. Remember? He's not a helpless kitten, boys."

Ignoring that comment, Dean ran his hand over his jaw and clicked his tongue. "Damn, this is going to be messy. Can't see anyway else in except to use the old distract and run for it method."

"We could just wait, get some hunters up here," Sam said without any enthusiasm.

"By the time any help gets here, I doubt Cas or Meg will still be there." Dean straightened up and sighed. "Going to be messy for sure."

"Adam won't be easy to kill, you know, if it gets down to that. The closest thing you can use, since the Phoenix is technically out, is Death's scythe, but I'm betting that would be impossible to find at this point." Marv tsked and flipped through his book. "Your one thing you have going for you is that he isn't really Eve. He's a small part of her from what you said; like a fraction of what she is. So maybe it gets simpler than we think."

"Simpler?"

Marv shrugged. "All of this last moment stuff is annoying. You know, you are very lucky I read so much. Then again, what else did I have to do?"

"So what do we do?" Dean asked, barely able to curb his impatience.

"How do you kill any monster?" Marv countered. He made a slicing gesture across his throat and choked out an odd sound that made Nyx giggle from where she was still sitting. Dean gave her an indulgent smile but when he looked around he was glaring at the angel. "Won't be easy either, if this Adam is as a strong as you say he is. If you're lucky, and this is a big if, then you can catch him by surprise."

Dean braced his hands on the table and leaned over the map of the area. "Killing him might just be a bonus round now. Maybe we can, maybe we can't. I'm not even sure how to get close enough. What we need to do is get Cas and Meg out."

"You're risking your lives for a demon? Considering your back history with her, which I know of course, why?" the angel asked. Both brothers paused, because there had been many times where they both wondered the same thing.

Dean looked over at Nyx who was watching them all curiously. "Because of that little girl and Cas." He looked down at the map. "And she helped save Sam from dying once or twice." It wasn't hard to remember how Meg and Kevin had both warned him about the trials to close Hell. How they had told him that it would only result in death, particularly Sam's death. The thought of losing his little brother had been enough to make him a little grateful that Meg had pushed back hard again his intent to close the Gates of Hell.

The Metatron snorted and shook his head. "Right. Don't ask questions. I get it." Marv tapped the map. "Go downwind. They may be monsters but if some of them are newly made then they will be relying a lot on their senses. I suggest you go well armed too."

Sam slid a machete out of a scabbard and handed it to Dean. "This good?"

Marv's eyes widened as he watched the eldest Winchester spin it with a flick of his wrist. "Still with the guns and knives blazing approach, I see."

The grin he got from Dean was cool but eager.

"Not that I'm saying anything about that. It works for me." Marv sighed. "I might have an answer for killing Adam in another book. I'll be back shortly."

The brothers waited until he was gone with the usual angelic flutter before looking at each other.

"What about Nyx?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low. "We can't leave her here."

"Maybe…no." Dean shook his head. "We can't just send her off with Marv. I don't trust him and if Cas finds out we left her with the angel responsible for kicking the angels out? Not a good move. Meg might torture us too."

He looked at the map and then out the window. "Only have one option and that's the Impala. We park it far enough away, ward it against demons and angels on the interior with hexbags, we could be fine."

"And if something goes wrong?" Sam jerked his chin at Nyx. "We have to plan for something going wrong."

Knowing he was right, Dean sighed and moved from the table to crouch in front of Nyx. She shifted around so she faced him. The little girl stared at him and he smiled as if to ease the sting of his words. "Nyx, we need to go get your mom and dad. You have to hide, do you know why?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Gonna save them from the monsters."

"That's right. We're going to find them but you need to hide and keep safe, okay?" Dean asked earnestly and she frowned.

She thought it over. "Want Aunt Linda. She'll help."

The sudden words made Dean swallow. "She can't, Nyx."

"Why?" she asked. Behind Dean. Sam closed his eyes. Everyone had avoided talking to Nyx about Linda to keep from hurting her.

"She's gone away. To Heaven," Dean explained.

Nyx's tiny chin jutted out and she looked so confused that neither knew if she really understood. "Want to be with her."

"Not for a long time, if I have a say in it," Dean muttered. "We need to go soon. I need you to stay in the car."

"Not scared." There was something rebellious in her blue eyes that made him shake his finger at her and look as stern as he could in the face of those large blue eyes.

"We are. You need to stay safe in the car and if we don't come back right away, you get to Kevin, okay? You can do it, we know you can. Like how you escaped the monsters." When she looked down, he reached out and grasped her by the chin so she had to look him in the eye. "Nyx. Do you understand?"

Swallowing, she nodded. "Want them safe."

"We'll find them." Dean smiled shakily. "You'll see, they'll be fine."

The blade slid slow into Castiel's chest, followed by a tearing sound as skin and clothing gave way under the pressure.

The sound carried over the radio's low steady hum, the warbling of a singer about how the times were changing. The slow rip of flesh was louder when the song reached its apex and, with his head bent down, Adam hummed along in warble of harmony to the tune. He turned his wrist as the guitar began its louder whine and his own voice rose to mimic it.

Castiel sucked in a deep breath as the angel sword tore a new hole in his shirt and abdomen, piercing deep enough for blood to well and Grace to start to leak through the wound. Confined to moving only as far as the sigil-etched chains could let him go, the angel kept himself as still as possible against the wall. To move, to struggle, would only mean that the wound would deepen. The monster's temporary amusement in carving sigils on his body, partially to keep Castiel further restrained, was slowly ebbing. Castiel could still heal fast, even with the wards painted on the walls, and it was not as amusing for a monster not to hear his screams.

"You know, for an angel?" Adam clicked his tongue and made a smiley face on Castiel's blood-dotted stomach, watched his muscles contract in reaction. "You're pretty resilient."

Rolling his eyes back until they closed, Castiel exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

The sharp crack of Adam's palm against his cheek made his eyes open, this time to see the monster leaning on the wall beside him. "That was a compliment."

When the angel said nothing, he smirked. "It's not enough for you to hear her screams when they start, Castiel." Adam licked at his bloody fingers absentmindedly. "You deserve some suffering yourself."

The cold look he was shot made Adam smile.

"You don't think so?" He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of Castiel's dark hair, twisting so that his neck was exposed. The angel heard the crack and pop of his own neck as his head was wrenched further back and he winced, ready for more pain. Yet all Adam did was stroke his fingers up Castiel's vulnerable throat. "You made the Mother suffer. Allowed Crowley to torture her poor body. Our precious offspring were nearly destroyed because of that."

There was nothing he could say to deny it, so Castiel simply kept his eyes on the ceiling again. The sigils close by were weakening him to such a point that even fighting would be useless. Normally he knew he could try to fight Adam, maybe not win, but he could at least fight; but what chances he had were gone when the sigils were in place.

It was worse when he had no doubt that the shifters would kill Meg if he did fight.

"In Purgatory we would have hunted you and flayed you alive. A trophy angel."

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?" Castiel asked, managing to sound bored. The sword against his stomach turned and he held his breath. He was more battered and bruised than he expected; he hadn't felt this sore since he had been human. The difference was that as an angel he could try to push past that pain faster. Managing to get an insolent look on his face, he lowered his eyes to Adam. "Get it over with."

"You think just torturing that pretty vessel of yours is my plan for you? That I just want to rip you into little angel shreds?" Adam sounded hurt. "You don't think much of monsters, do you?"

He stepped back and tossed the angel sword to one of the shifters standing close by. Castiel flinched as he watched it lick at the blood on the blade, knowing why it was being done. Adam saw his wary expression and smirked.

"Cutting into you was just for fun. Watching you break? Watching the way you will eventually find a way to get me that little girl of yours? That will be what I'm actually dying to see." He headed to the door with the shifters. "Of course, when the Mother gets to you, Castiel, I don't expect for there to be much left over for me to play with."

"You think that threatening me with your monster mother is going to convince me?" Castiel asked as he watched the monsters linger in the hall.

"Not yet." Adam gave him a condescending look over his shoulder. "Soon though. Stay in here for a few hours, listen to your little demon scream, and we'll see how eager you are to fight me."

The angel sword had been already tainted by Grace. The metal of it was still hot from his body, still dripped with blood as it moved through the folds of her clothing and teasingly pierced her skin. Meg had been actually counting on that; twisted as the monsters were, they weren't big on imagination it seemed. Letting her think that Castiel was tortured and dying was amateurish. Boring even.

It was still hard to anticipate such pain though when they turned her attention on her next.

The angel sword slid between the slots of her ribs, ever so gently, and stayed there with wiggling precision. She couldn't stop herself from wincing just a little as it went deeper with each small twist. Meg took shallow breaths to keep the blade from penetrating her further.

"He wants her alive," someone said over her head. "He infected her a few hours ago and that new soul is going to be ready for her soon. Don't go too far in. "

"Oh, I won't. It is more her mind he wants us to rip apart." The fetid breath touched her face and she smelled something earthy, with an undercurrent of rich copper that was sickening. Struggling to keep her eyes open, Meg caught a glimpse of the two shifters working on her. "We just need to find that sweet spot. The demons were always good at finding it in us." The grin she saw was crooked. "I'd rather take my time and…"

Meg grunted as the sword twisted and she felt the metal scratch bone with agonizing accuracy.

"Find the perfect spot to play with."

"Oh, come on." Meg bowed her back and turned her head as best as she could towards the monster. "I've had centuries of this. You guys have had… what? Half a day?" She laughed hoarsely, her chapped lips parted in a cracked smile. "That's nothing and I'm already getting bored."

His head lifted abruptly and he sliced through her shirt so it was fully open from collar to navel. The rest of her clothing was equally as tattered now.

"You want it a bit harder?" he asked calmly. His face melded and changed, lingered between expressions, and then transformed into a direct copy of Castiel's. Meg held his gaze unflinchingly. The shifter smiled at her but the grin was not the angel's. It twisted his face into a manic expression as he bared his white teeth. "Or would you like it a bit… deeper?"

The gasping sound she made as the other shifter slowly dribbled holy water on her wounded stomach made both monsters chuckle.

"I think she doesn't like it when you use the angel's face."

"Really?" The shifter's eyes flickered between colours for a moment but the voice remained the same. "That's good to know. It's nice that the Father's blessing makes my turning so much faster. No more shedding, no more waiting. Just instantaneous change."

He turned his head, revealing a bite mark similar to Meg's, and she looked at him closely. That explained her one question but now she knew she couldn't trust anything she was shown. The other shifter grumbled in agreement.

"This is supposed to make me talk?" she asked as Castiel's double bent and made sure the cuffs on her feet were still tight to the crossbar. "Using the pretty boy's face?" Meg chuckled. "Really. That's your ace?"

The shifter's visage lost its focus for a moment, melted back into the regular features of a smaller man with green eyes and a receding hairline. "You were starting to squeal real pretty."

"Only because I'm getting bored and have to make my own music." Meg leaned forward as far as her trapped head would let her. "You guys are gonna kill me with boredom." She jangled the cuffs. "That's why monsters are at the bottom of the food chain, baby. You're nothing compared to demons or angels."

The face changed immediately into Castiel's and he launched up against her body. Meg turned her head to the side just in time to avoid his teeth from grazing her cheek, while absurdly strong fingers grabbed hunks of her hair and yanked to force her head back. Meg's eyes rolled a little as she focussed them on the ceiling to try to avoid his glare. The shifter breathed out heavily in her ear.

"We're nothing? Who trapped who, bitch?"

His grip tightened and his other hand grabbed her by the chin to force her head to turn. The face was Castiel's and for one second, Meg believed that the hatred she was seeing really was an angel's. The deception of it sent her stomach turning because it was so believable. As much as she thought she had the right to distrust Castiel sometimes, the thought of this visceral hate from him somehow that punctured an armour she kept carefully stacked against him. The shifter noticed the slight change in her body; she was trying so hard not to squirm that the sounds she let escape were of honest pain.

"We're going to win, demon," he said. "Your kind? You're all going to learn what it is to be the outcasts now. The Mother will make all of you pray for death."

The fingers on her chin tightened until she couldn't stop a muffled cry from escaping. Her teeth cut into her tongue as he continued to squeeze, threatening to break her jaw.

"You're going to feel it all: the infection, the pain. There's nothing you can do," he breathed against her ear just before the tip of the angel sword made a tiny cut just at her collar. It scratched a tiny path until he dug it into where Adam's fangs had pierced the skin of her neck. Her guard down, Meg screamed at the unexpected pain such a tiny cut could make as the blessed blade met the poisoned flesh. Delighted at the sound, the shifters both laughed and missed how her eyes glittered black and her jaw clenched in determination.

It would be easier to just stop fighting, she realized. This had happened enough times to her that she knew exactly what to do. Her eyes fluttering closed, Meg let her mind drift away as they began to try to get their answers from her.

She was safe when she kept her emotions locked away.

They'd never touch that part of her that was weak because they were going about it the wrong way.

She was safe.

Adam rolled the ball of electrical tape between his fingers as he watched the security tapes. The werewolves and shifters now serving him had some basic knowledge about surveillance and he wasn't about to risk letting a moment go by where he didn't see something, anything, of how his captives 'ticked'. Of how he could use their weaknesses if only he could find them. But beyond some screams that escaped the angel's stubborn resistance or the demon's taunting, there was nothing. Nothing from the angel or demon after how many hours of trying to find their weakest spots. He had expected them to fight and then to give in.

No, it wasn't just the angel that frustrated all of them; it was the stubbornness of that damned demon.

She should have started to show more signs of her infection by now, even if it was just a fraction of what she would be when the corruption weakened the demon core enough to let him attach a new soul into that body. She should have already caved and given him what he needed because every demon had begged him before to stop. Once they figured out they were about to be consumed, they had begged for death and would give him anything for it.

But this one wasn't acting normal.

"If the Mother comes here and finds them unbroken," he said aloud while watching the shifters start to work on the demon again. "She will be very upset."

Reaching up, he pressed his hand against his jaw to correct the skin starting to fall away from the fractured bone. Above it, the stab wound hadn't fully healed; his pierced eye was already starting to fall from its socket again. The decay of his meatsuit was increasing the more power he tried to use. Shifting into Castiel for even that short period of time had forced more cracks to appear and he didn't want to risk it again, which was why he left the more detailed tortures to the actual shapeshifters. He'd even used the Mother's gift to strengthen their powers and make their shifting easier but it had cost him dearly, his healing taking longer and longer without all that power. It would be no different for Eve. Connected as he was to the Mother, he could feel her desires and needs acutely. She was using as much power as he was and hers was focussed on creating her children. She was suffering as badly as he was.

There just weren't enough demons being released from Hell for the monsters' souls to attach themselves to.

Letting the sinews struggle to repair themselves on his jaw, he watched the video feed as the shifters left the demon in her torture crossbar and noisily came back into his adjoining room. The smell of her blood on their skin was suddenly an irritant to Adam; he wasn't sure if there a worse smell than that demon's blood. He wasn't even sure why Meg's blood tasted so wrong to him. It should have tasted as exhilarating as any others; human, demon, or monster. But just that one taste had repelled him and he wasn't sure why. He only knew that he didn't want that taste in his mouth again.

The shifter who favoured looking like Castiel cleared his throat and Adam rolled his eyes as he swivelled in the chair.

"What is it?"

"We've been at this for hours, Father. She's still resisting. She screams, but we're starting to see that she's doing it for show." The Castiel shifter looked at his brother. "If there was another way of forcing her?"

The other shifter snorted. "What? You want to try gnawing on an angel for a while and see if that works?"

"I'm not that stupid. Only the Father could do such a thing and the angel would know what he was doing anyway," the first snapped. His face turned back into his true face, bones restructuring quickly and he groaned as he stretched his facial muscles.

Ignoring their bickering, Adam stretched out in his chair and watched the second screen and the angel pacing in the room at the other end of the. The camera could only follow him so far, and he often stayed safe in the corner out of sight. After his brief interrogation, Adam had left Castiel in the old packing room, trapped by tethers of magic, sigils, and Holy Oil. The Holy Fire itself he had dampened, not wanting to run out too fast, and as he watched Castiel try to move, try to plan an escape, Adam wondered how dangerous the angel really was. He couldn't get as far without help with the way the sigils tired him and Adam had been watching him pace like some caged animal. He'd barely reacted to the demon's odd cry or two.

Either he was made of sterner stuff than Adam had expected, he didn't care, or he hid his emotions well.

Adam had the feeling that it was the latter. He had seen Castiel's readiness to protect the demon and the child before. The angel had almost fooled him. Maybe he did need to test his limitations a bit further.

Sliding down a bit in the chair, Adam slapped his hand on the desk and the two shifters who had been waiting for instruction looked up. "Take the demon to see him. Perhaps he just needs some incentive."

The shifters looked at each other nervously. "Won't they be dangerous together?"

"She's not going very far shortly." He looked over at them. "I think the angel needs to see how bad things are going to get and we can see if it helps him change his mind, mm?"

It was easier for Castiel to lose himself in thought, to mediate and try to think about what he could do, than it was to keep his mind present. He wasn't going anywhere and he knew it. He had to wait for the right moment.

He could feel the pressure of the sigil cuffs on his wrists, keeping him confined to the tiny space. The wards painted were exhausting him so much that it was easier to sit against the wall and try to ignore the way he was trapped. The flames had been extinguished for a while, though he could still smell Holy Oil and the charred remains of soot on the ground. Whoever had shown them the sigils to use had been smart. The many Enochian wards were strong enough to dampen his power and he could barely keep his eyes open sometimes. The wounds on his belly hadn't fully healed yet because his Grace was sluggish to react and he could feel his own skin stretching as the cuts tried to mend. Even without the Holy Fire, he was stuck in one space, waiting for some sign that he could try an escape.

Castiel felt useless. He had listened to the faint screaming earlier and had dropped into a steady meditation to try to ignore it. But each passing hour had started to grate on him slowly even when there were no more screams, when the monsters simply resorted to taunting him through the closed door by telling him how Adam would rip him apart. Guilt and fear for himself and Meg had started to wear on already edgy nerves and he'd nearly called out to her several times. But he knew Meg maybe even better than she realized. He knew from his own experience with torture that she was likely focussing on staying alive. He'd done it enough times himself; it was easier to let your mind escape when there was nothing to draw you back.

He didn't feel the brush of a draft on his skin when the door opened or hear the scrape of metal on the floor. It wasn't until the door slammed shut with a bang that he opened his eyes and took in a deep breath. He smelled a faint odour of blood, sulphur, and soap mixed as one, so strong that he could taste the smells on his tongue.

"Hey. Wake up," Meg called out and he looked up in surprising. Rolled in on a chair, Meg sat close to the door with her hands bound. Coming to the edge of the sigil paint as far as he could, he stared at her. He stared at her as if trying to read what she was and the demon smirked at his look. "You don't think I'm me?"

"Considering the situation? No." Castiel watched her, searching for some sign that she was a shifter, and Meg sighed.

"I'm not a shifter."

"I don't know that for sure."

"Look at me, Cas. Really look at me. You can see under the surface, I know you can." She rolled her eyes thoughtfully as he stared at her. "I ate peanut butter a lot three years ago and you insisted it be 'organic'. How about that for a random fact a shifter wouldn't think to use?"

Meg had a point. It really was so ridiculously inane that no shifter would see it as important to an angel. Castiel nodded, surprised that she had remembered. It was such an absurd little craving she had had and was something that he had tucked away in his own eidetic memory to chuckle over sometimes.

"Okay."

Satisfied, she sagged a little in the chair and winced when the movement dragged her torn clothing over her wounds. Castiel studied her as she relaxed. The damage done to her was only on the surface and her sliced clothing revealed in patches what the shifters had done. Itching to reach out and touch her, to try to heal her, Castiel bunched his hands into fists and took in a deep breath to force himself to stay where he was.

"Are you…"

"I'm in a ton of pain but I'm fine, mostly." Her neck cracked and he noticed how she twisted her wrists against the restraints. She arched an eyebrow as she watched his expression. "You know why they put me here, right?"

"To get me to break by seeing the damage done to you," Castiel said before he nodded at her, eyes on her wounds.

"Cookie for you, angel." Meg fiddled with the chair and shook her head. "Seriously, I stand by my 'monsters are amateurs' rule. That technique only works on humans anyway. The pity thing isn't big on demons or angels, is it?"

Castiel let his gaze linger on the bruises and cuts already healing on her body, the ripped clothing, and then the bite mark turning black on her throat. "I'm not sure that's true," he said, voice lowering a little before he turned away.

"Oh hell, Cas, don't get too emotional on me over this," Meg grumbled uncomfortably. "I need big surly self-righteous prick Castiel, not 'my bees were just exterminated' Castiel."

He ignored that insult.

"Why are you doing this, Meg?" He tested the limits of the confines, only to be frustrated by being unable to get close to her. "You know that I've been through worse than what they could manage."

The demon rolled her head to the side, her hands still working at her cuffs. The bruising on her arms was turning deep purple from the pressure of her struggles.

"Maybe it is because I can handle taking it this time, you know? It isn't hard to handle when they are carving into you." Chuckling, her voice slowly began to slur into a low rambling. "Sometimes, hearing someone else get knifed, someone that you… that… well, that's never easy. It's how Alastair would break us in Hell if we were too stubborn. He'd trot out some shade of your past and use memories and any weakness he could find to snap that control. It is pretty damn effective and I would know. Just a thread of hope and it is destroyed in the next hot poker in your ribs."

As if startled she had blurted that out-loud, she clamped her mouth shut and eyed him.

Castiel stared back and came back to the edge, watching as her head tilted forward. "Meg."

"I think now is the worst time for a conversation about feelings and human love-y dove-y crap if that's what you're planning," she warned cagily.

"I don't care. Or were you trying to do the same thing you said Alastair would do? Give out that slice of hope and just to see how deep it would cut when it wasn't true?" he asked, trying to go for levity but losing it.

Meg exhaled slowly, fingers twitching in the cuffs. "I told you three years ago." She fidgeted in her seat and looked away. Her voice dropped, too low to be heard by anyone but him. "I made a choice and if there is one thing you should know about me by now, treehopper, is that I don't back down from those often."

The use of the nickname made his eyes narrow thoughtfully at her. "Causes change. We both know that."

"Causes change," she agreed. "But not the reasons why I have them."

Wanting to understand what it was she was trying to say, he moved as close as he could, fingers itching to break free from the cuffs. Like Meg, he bore bruises on his face from the depths of the earlier beatings to keep him confined, his own lips bloody and chapped from biting into them, and he saw what Meg saw from the reflection in her eyes.

"You're not looking too hot, Castiel."

He shrugged and knew that moment, where Meg had shown some fragments of how she actually felt, had passed.

"They're finding it hard to crack me, if you're wondering," Meg said and he watched her take in a shaky breath. "Thankfully."

"I don't think I'd expect you to crack before me anyway," Castiel muttered. "This can only get worse, Meg."

"Well, we both know we're here for a reason." Her head turned to the side to look around the room. "Nyx, right?"

"We won't give her up," he said for her and Meg nodded.

"Didn't come this far to give in to a couple of half-crazed monsters, Castiel." The demon tracked her eyes over the room. "I'm just avoiding their questions as best as I can."

Castiel pushed his cuffed hand into his pocket and felt the necklace and his tiny journal. The monsters had only searched him so thoroughly and he had struggled enough that they hadn't realized everything he carried in the depths of his coat. Drawing them out, he stared at them as if he could find some use for them in escape. Ripping out a page, he crumbled it into a ball and tossed it to the side in some sort of macabre humour. When he glanced up, Meg was staring at him. At the hand that was dangling her necklace.

"Where did you get that?" she whispered and he rolled it between his fingers.

"When I took it off you after the fire… you never asked for it back."

"I thought I'd lost it." Meg looked up at him. "You kept it?" He nodded. "Why?"

"So I could give it back to you someday." He moved to the edge of the sigils again but felt the restrictive barrier pushing back at him.

Meg looked around as the footsteps started to come closer and then her dark eyes actually seemed to brighten as she looked at him.

"Well, hold on to it until we get out of here and then you can give me it back," she said wryly and he smiled at her. She cracked her neck again and he saw the thick black and green fluid dripping from the wound on her neck.

"It's starting to hurt?"

Meg's face pulled from easygoing smirk to a cooler frown. "I'm not changing." She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder awkwardly. "Not yet, anyway."

"The venom is moving slower on you then."

"Mm." She looked around the room.

"Meg." Her gaze stopped wandering and settled on him again. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm fine." Her eyes darkened to black. "Just… preparing for the inevitable. You'll probably get the honours."

Castiel twitched. "I hate when you talk like that."

"Come on. Adam saw us fighting and these monsters aren't half-bad. What better way to punish you?" Her voice rose too loud for the small room. "Get me to turn, let me loose, so I kill the brat. That way you kill me. Simple. You've been dying to stick your sword in me again I bet."

Though he glared at her for the innuendo, he knew she was doing it for whoever was eavesdropping. He glanced around at the overhead ventilation and at the door behind her back. He made sure his voice was just as loud and angry as hers. "I'll kill you before you hurt her. The way I should have killed you before when you had no use left."

The confused muttering they heard at the door made him smile a little wanly at the demon and she winked at him.

"That's my boy. Nice to see you back." The way she drawled it made Castiel wish it had been said somewhere else at some other time. She groaned and he knelt down a bit so he wouldn't be overheard.

"I won't hurt you, Meg."

Her lips turned down a little. "You might not have a choice."

Castiel stared at her. "One thing I learned after being human is that I always have a choice, Meg."

Something in her stilled at his obvious belief and she stopped fidgeting in her seat so that he could see her confusion and her fear. As if she wanted to believe him more than she was letting on. He looked away when the door creaked open and a shifter came in to drag her chair back out again. It was hard to watch her leave and he had to force himself to stay still, afraid if he did openly try to fight for her that it would give the monsters only more to use against them.

The shifter that took her smirked over his shoulder at the angel and his face turned into a copy of Castiel's. Standing in the doorway, Adam leaned against the frame and smiled at the interaction.

"The little demon is real fun when she sees you cutting into her, angel."

Castiel let a low sound rumble in his throat and he stepped forward. He reached out with his hands as if to use his Grace to pull Meg back to him. Anticipating that move, Adam raised his hand. Instantly, the flames started on the Holy Oil again and he was confined once more, the fire leaping and burning the sigil cuffs off his wrists. Castiel cried out and snatched his arms back close to his body at the pain of it.

"She's going to turn, Castiel. Eventually." Adam stayed still and his almost mockingly unbothered pose made Castiel long to reach across the fire and tear his throat out. "And I bet you know what I'm going to do."

"She won't turn. Meg is too strong for that."

"I haven't seen a demon resist yet," Adam said but the angel saw the way his eyes darted to the side. He was lying.

"I know Meg." Castiel gave him a small head tilt in response. "I know her and I know she won't give in."

The monster's smile took a more vicious twist. "I think we're about to find out. When she turns, and she will, I might turn her loose and let her hunt down that child. The Mother may only be interested in blood, I think; she'll love having something torn apart before it is brought to her."

Castiel could only glare as the door swung shut behind the monster and left him alone and trapped.

They were several miles away from the warehouse that the Metatron had pointed them to when Dean pulled the Impala off the dirt road and parked close to the water. The river ran in enough twists and turns that it wouldn't be hard for them to make their way, unseen, towards the building in the distance. Nodding to Sam to stay in the car, he took out his modified binoculars and eased out of the car.

Sam studied him for a moment before he hesitantly checked the backseat. Sitting safe in the back seat, looking absurdly small, Nyx was staring out the window. She looked far more alert than he expected. This time of night she was usually asleep or at least drowsy. Reaching over, he unbuckled her and then sat back down, rubbing at his temples as his headache flared. Nyx crawled over the front seat, ignoring his muttering that Dean would be upset that her still muddy shoes were leaving marks on the upholstery. Her eyes looked very large as she stared through the window while tucking herself safe beside Sam.

"Don't be scared," he said, keeping his voice lighter than he felt. "We'll get your mom out safe."

She pressed close and he looped an arm around her shoulders, no longer wondering why it was so easy to try to keep her happy and unafraid.

"We're going to keep you safe but you have to do exactly what Dean told you to do, okay?" Sam squeezed her shoulder and Nyx nodded. "Now what did he say to do?"

"Hide in car until sun comes. If not back, then… and then…." She gave a puzzled sound. "Fly? Like angels?"

"You know how to fly like your dad?" Sam asked and she shook her head.

"Just gotta go."

"Go to Kevin, right." Tapping his phone, he showed her the picture of Garth's house. Sam knew that they were taking a big risk hoping Nyx understood how to get to Kevin. She'd somehow managed to teleport away from trouble Meg and Castiel had been in, and both Winchesters could only hope that it would go so well for Nyx again. "We're going to keep you safe."

"Don't want you to go," Nyx whispered and she looked up at him. Sam looked down into that adoring expression and smiled fondly, vaguely aware of the unsettling, almost paternal feeling he had when she looked at him like that. "Dean too."

"We'll be right back with them. You'll be safe."

"Sick." Nyx sounded unhappy and Sam frowned.

"Your tummy hurting again?"

"Not me." She poked him in the side. "You."

Sam had no answer that wasn't going to be a lie and he had the suspicion that Nyx would be able to tell. He was saved from thinking up some stupid response when Dean opened the door and slid back in. The little girl looked up at him, all wide blue eyes and pursed lips, and he blinked, looking at her and then at Sam.

"What's with the puppy eyes?"

"She thinks we won't come back."

Dean tweaked her nose gently. "That's silly, Nyx. We're coming right back."

"Aunt Linda was gonna be back," she muttered and Dean leaned over to put his face close to hers so he could hear her. "She's gone."

"We're not going to leave you, Nyx. You're safe with us and we'll get them back, okay? Trust me." Dean stared intently at her and Nyx's confused expression made him wait until she nodded, though she still looked worried. Then, before he could lean back, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Dean was so startled that he looked at Sam as Nyx gave his cheek a sloppy kiss.

Sam smiled. "She's been pretty cuddly lately."

"Not sure where she gets it from," Dean said before pressing an equally affectionate kiss against the top of her head.

"She just likes us, right, Nyx?"

The little girl nodded. "Best friends."

"You can braid Sammy's hair and paint my nails later then," Dean joked before he leaned back and looked out at the distant warehouse. "All right. You stay in the car, and hide, you got me?"

Sam grinned and didn't say a word as Nyx nodded. "Got you."

"Good girl." He smiled and ruffled her hair. Nyx's look at Sam and then at him, one that was far too serious for a child, made him frown. "What?"

Kneeling beside him, her hands went to his face and held it steady. "Not your fault."

"What?" Dean blinked at her and she gave him a firm nod.

"Did best you could."

The words were a strange echo of another time years ago and he chanced a glance at Sam.

"You got any idea what she's talking about?" he asked and Sam shrugged.

"Come on, Dean, time to go." He plucked Nyx away from his brother and got out of the car. She grumbled loudly that he could put her down but he ignored her and put her under a blanket in the backseat. "You stay here and you stay safe."

She made a face and flipped the blanket over her head. Knowing he had little to lose in terms of dignity, Sam smiled and patted Clarence's head when she offered him. "You tell those friends of yours to keep us safe."

"Protect the big moose," Nyx said as Dean left the car and Sam smiled. He hated the nickname on a whole but the way she said it was affectionate enough.

"Stay here." There was something about how alert she was being that made him nervous. He knew she was like Cas a little, with those too knowing of eyes, but he wondered how like Meg she could actually be. "I mean it."

Her nose wrinkled and she cuddled down under the heavy blanket until she was hidden. "Fine."

Still not liking how calmly Nyx was accepting this, Sam made sure he locked all the doors before Dean tossed a camouflage cover over the car.

Meg could barely hide her groans as the shifter standing in front of her began methodically burning her fingertips with a lit match. They weren't torturing for information now. They were playing with her.

Somehow that was worse.

They knew something she didn't and Meg hated - hated - not being the first to know something.

"You know," said the shifter across from her, the one who still wore Castiel's face. "You cry uncle, I can make this a little sweeter on you. For a little bit of incentive of course."

Shifters, even those amped up, weren't the brightest sometimes, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. "I've had the real thing already," she said as he stood up, mouth coming inches from hers.

"So it'd be easy for you to lay back and imagine, I bet," the shifter taunted and Meg looked him in the eye.

"Not really. Trust me, you wouldn't measure up to him," she countered and he slapped her hard across the mouth. The starbursts that sprang into her vision made Meg gasp and shake her head in surprise, spitting out a small bit of blood. She bent her head back and laughed as the shifter stepped back and transformed into his true self again. "Oh come on, you have performance envy against an angel? Your kind gets more and more pathetic."

"You're forgetting one thing, demon." The shifter raised the angel sword. "I'm the one holding the knife."

"Lot of good it is doing you too. How many hours have you been at this and you've gotten, what? Nothing out of me? Your big Daddy's not gotten a thing either."

Her vision started to swim as she stared at the shifter.

"You're… not gonna win this one," she said, feeling drunk and out of sorts so suddenly. The shifter stepped back, recognizing what was happening. The wound at her neck was starting to pulse on its own, dark blood oozing from the puncture wounds, and Meg whimpered as her head sagged down.

She was back in Hell, in the Pit. She could feel it in the way the air seemed to close around her and push hard on all sides. An oppressive pressure meant to smother her in heat. She could only see such darkness and yet her eyes ached from staring into something hot and bright for too long. Her nose felt like it was being burned from the reek of sulphur and ash and even her flesh was beginning to scorch from the heat.

Strangely, her body didn't feel like her own anymore.

Low humming and the slow scrape of something metal being sharpened made her turn her head to the side and struggle to see through the dark. Her hands twisted at the clamps holding her arms down and she groaned as the darkness eased, just a little. Just enough to let her see that she wasn't alone.

"Quite the pickle, quite the pickle."

Alastair stood at his table, just the way she remembered him last time, just before she had escaped the Pit. Before she had crawled her way free and found ways of avoiding ever going back to his rack. The shadows that enveloped them had parted only enough to highlight his skeletally thin face, his true appearance just as scarred as any demons. He looked hideous even now and Meg pulled hard at the cuffs on her hands. The empty racks on either side of where she was propped were stained dark with blood.

"Last one on the rack for the day, little girl." He smiled, broken teeth showing through his cracked lips, and he looked at her face curiously.

"This isn't real," Meg whispered.

"Of course not. This is a hallucination. A good one too. One you think you deserve. You've been a bad little demon, Meg. What with the angel and the girl and you're working with hunters? Such a bad demon." Alastair's true face twisted in the shadows and Meg pulled even harder. He rested the sharp blade against her face. "Your face has changed, Meg."

She whimpered as a pressure began to wind tighter in her body, as if something was fighting to get out of her and fight back.

"You don't look as beautiful to me as you once did. You used to be so torn up, so scarred, so pretty."

She thought she felt the blade dig deeper and, with that power of that belief, blood began to drip from her cheek in reality as well as the hallucination.

"Let's change that and make you something special. You can go to the head of the class and I'll let you torture your own little brat soon."

Meg screamed when the hallucination wrapped her in agony and fear. As the venom's fever began to twist and heat within her, she writhed and screamed for escape.

Still caught in the circle of fire, Castiel heard the scream and felt the sound nearly vibrate in his ears as he listened. Closing his eyes, the angel lowered his head and began to pray.

The shifters watched Meg with nothing but curiosity now. They had seen the venom's effects before, seen what it did to demons. It pulled them apart at the seams and weakened them so monsters could take root. She hadn't been infested with a soul yet but when Adam was ready, eventually one would put to blend in with her. Even if the soul couldn't take over, she'd simply fail to turn and die.

But the demon was actually fighting it.

"We should tell the Father."

There was something eerie about her screams, something so lost and incoherent. Considering how much she had taunted and tormented them earlier, it frightened them. Setting the angel sword down on the bench across from her, they backed away and out the door, latching it securely behind them. They were both desperate to put distance between themselves and the demon.

Meg gasped for breath as she woke at the loud clang of the door. It had snapped her out of the hallucination and her eyes opened to focus on the angel sword they had left on the metal bench. Her eyes deepened to onyx and she let her head sag forward as she tried to focus on it. Tried to get it to move towards her like she should have been able to.

But for all her will, it stayed in one spot and she let her head thump back on the headrest out of defeat.

Meg knew that she needed to save her strength, and with a low moan of pain she fell back into unconsciousness.

The few monsters Adam used as guards patrolled the walkway outside the building, carefully keeping time with one another. In the middle of nowhere with no humans likely to get too close to an abandoned building, after all these hours they were easing up on their duty a little. Anyone who came close would likely be an angel or demon and there were enough wards now to weaken any of them.

None of them noticed a man slipping along through the shadows, coming from the river side and downwind of them. Or the second man that moved fast across the yard and then pressed back into a shadowy stairwell to hide. Neither man moved until the guards separated to start their slow and steady patrols up the south-side of the building.

A low cough was what alerted the first guard to there being someone or something nearby. He inhaled deep and twitched his head to the side to take a look at what he could suddenly smell. The butt of a gun striking his head made him crumple to the ground in a heap, his flashlight rolling away from his hand.

Dean caught him mid-slump and dragged him off into the darkness beneath the fire escape. Squinting through the shadows, he noticed two other guards coming up the left side and he quickly flicked the light on and off several times at the other side of the building. There was a flash in return near the storage shed, just before the monsters were around the corner close to Sam, heads lifted as they smelled something in the air.

"There's something out here," one said loudly. Dean couldn't tell what he was, though he guessed that his decaying skin meant one of the new brand of monsters. The monster turned around to try to track the smell in the air and while his back was turned Sam snatched the other monster and dragged him back into the storage shed with him. The loud scuffling sound in the doorway made the first monster turn again and Dean shot off a round, the shotgun bullet putting a large hole in the monster's side, sending it to the ground. He sprinted over the walkway and leapt on the monster, punching him down so his head cracked on the sidewalk. He heard the slash of Sam's machete from inside the building and the squelch of flesh being hacked.

"Dean!" Sam said sharply and Dean saw the glint of metal. Between punches, he turned to catch the machete midair, and in one smooth pivot he chopped off his own monster's head.

Together, they dragged the bodies to the dark corner and crouched in the shadows.

"We're gettin' better at this," Dean muttered as he wiped his bloody hand on his jeans.

"Yeah? How do you figure?" Sam asked.

"We're not caught yet," he said and his brother rolled his eyes.

"You jinx us and I swear I'm letting the next monster eat you."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, that's fair but I'm too good at my job for that."

"You see anything?" Sam asked, ignoring the grin he was getting. "It's pretty damn dark."

"Just saw a whole bunch of Enochian sigils and demon wards. Might explain why Cas hasn't busted himself out."

Sam squinted at the main building, trying to see through the fogged windows. "He won't leave Meg either."

"Provided they're still alive." Dean reached into heavier duffel bag Sam had hidden against the wall and pulled out the small gas cans they had brought. He set them down and unwrapped a glass bottle as well. Letting Sam keep a look out, he poured the gas in and stuffed a rag into the mouth of the bottle.

"I don't think Adam took them just to kill them." Sam had to shake his head a few times to keep himself focussed. "We have to get some of these wards down but we can't just go around spray painting. Those were the first three but the tracks had at least ten people moving up and down the dirt paths."

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Dean asked, lifting his eyebrows as he wound another part of the rag around the neck of the bottle.

"Light 'em up?"

"Might as well. Least fire won't kill Cas or Meg." He thought that over. "Or I think it won't."

"Distract the monsters, get them out. That's our plan. So who's running with the gas and who's the bait?"

The brothers stared at each other and both held out their fists at the same time. Holding Sam's gaze, Dean shook his clenched fist in unison with him and then played his move. They both looked down at his scissors to Sam's rock and the other man gave him a knowing grin.

Disgusted with himself, Dean gave him the finger. "Yeah, yeah. Don't look so smug."

"How many years have we been playing this and you still pick scissors most of the time?"

"Shut it. Sometimes I win."

"I let you win. It gets pathetic if I always win," Sam countered and he forcefully took the gas cans from Dean. "Remember to look like their next meal, Dean."

"Shut it, Sammy." Dean dusted off his pants and stretched . "You know, I hate to point it out but my doc said not too much physical exercise."

"Pretty sure she wouldn't want you sniffing gas and playing with matches either," Sam said without looking up as he unscrewed the gas caps. "You going or not?"

Dean glared at him as he picked up the bottle. "Yeah, I'm going."

Adam stared at the shifters as they stood across from him, both fidgeting nervously. Slowly, with exaggerated care, he removed his feet from the desk and stood up.

"What do you mean 'she's not cracking'?"

"We thought we had it. She seemed so… so ready!" the eldest said, eyes on the desk and not meeting Adam's. "And we were doing our best to wait."

"Demons are tortured for decades before they are created, Father. This one is old. Cracking her in a day is impossible."

Adam stood up and walked around the table, noticing how the first shifter flinched. "I understand." He bent close and his eyes flared orange. "But she is full of my influence and she should be turning."

"It affected her for a little while but all she did was hallucinate. It didn't turn her enough that we could try to put one of the Mother's children into her body."

"She'll still go rabid anyway," the second said. "It'll start to show. There's no healing from that."

Adam clicked his tongue and tapped his fingers on the desk. "The Mother can use her, even if she is fighting it. Whatever made this one just a little bit special could be what keeps us from falling apart." He reached up and quickly patched up a piece of his scabbing face. "We'll have her fully infected in a few hours. If it works or not we'll see."

His eyes went to the desk. "The Mother still wants her and the child." He twitched a little, looking to the side. "I think."

"So what should we do?"

"Take a few more hours. Weaken the body, play the shifter with her. See if you can get her to call the child to her."

The first shifter coughed and Adam's head snapped up. "What is it?"

"She's not falling for that. Seeing the angel, it weakens her but it doesn't pull her down."

"The angel is a weakness. Find a way of making it work." He moved around to his side of the desk. "We need them both weak. Both of them or it won't work."

"Yes, Father."

Adam opened his mouth to say more when a rock shattered the large office window and struck him in the side of the head. Startled by the pain, he picked it up and stared at the blood it was now flecked with. The shifters stared, just as confused, before they all looked out the shattered window. Growling deeply, Adam slammed the rock onto the desk and stalked over to the window with the shifters just behind him. Standing out in the loading yard a half-storey below them, a bow-legged man smirked at them.

"What's up, guys? Club Med's going good?"

Adam glared at him through the broken window. "Dean Winchester."

"That's my name," Dean said, smirking. "Didn't take much to find you guys."

"Well." Adam leaned out. "We weren't expecting company. But since you're here… I have some children who are very hungry."

"Nah, I won't taste that good." The hunter looked around. "Plus, they are a little busy already." Adam's head jerked up to see that the nearby storage sheds were on fire and Dean grinned, whistling to catch his attention again. "You guys have an angel and a demon that happen to be part of our little fucked family. I want them back."

He held up the bottle and wiggled it.

"That's it?" Adam asked. "You versus all of us. For the sake of those freaks?"

"Yeah but I owe the freaks something. Plus do I really look that stupid?" Dean clicked his tongue a few times before he reached for his lighter. "I have company."

Beside Adam, the shifters nervously moved. They knew of the Winchesters and what they were capable of.

"Rip him and his overgrown brother apart," Adam said as he watched Dean light the rag wick. "But leave something so the Mother can see what we've done to them. For her revenge."

Dean backed off a step as the shifters started to move for the window. "Sounds fun but I think I'll pass."

"I don't think you have a choice. What did you think was going to happen, Winchester?"

"Not much." Dean grinned up at him through the window, still just out of reach on the pavement. "Just wanted you to pay me enough attention for just the right amount of time."

He hurled the bottle towards the wall and the glass shattered on the brick. There was a snick and hiss as the flaming rag lit up the gas soaked wall and Dean grinned.

"Looks like we're good here," he called out and took off just as the fire alarms inside the building went off. Adam turned to see that the rooms at the far north of his makeshift home were on fire.

"Get him!" Adam shouted at his shifters and he slammed his hand on the PA button. The old system shrieked to life. "The Winchesters are here. Kill them!"

Crouched close the burning building, Sam grinned as he watched the door. "Guess Dean loses points for subtlety."

He watched as another of the monsters came out and licked his lower lip thoughtfully. "What I wouldn't give for some angel mojo right now," he muttered. He tossed the now empty can to the side and reached for his own lighter, balancing his knife in the other hand.

"Guess this is the next best thing."