A/N: Thanks for the reviews! You're all lovely :) Also, guess who signed up for Camp NaNo? Yeah, me, which means next week's update might be late since I'll be focused on writing other things. Still, you get a slightly longer chapter this week to make up for it. Let me know what you think!

This was all going much better than he had expected. He had expected more tears, more fear, more fighting. His children were all wonderfully compliant. Eager to please, most of them much more so than Sam. Perhaps he'd made the wrong decision... but Sam was so well-trained, and already he had a kind of anger that would make him a fearsome opponent. Yes, Sam had been the right choice.

Azazel smiled to himself. Jake, Ava and Sam were all on the loose. How long, he wondered, before they all turned on each other? How long before Sam realised his family weren't where he thought they were? Not long, surely.

He'd better get a move on, then. So far, Lily had been the only one to flat-out refuse his offer. It had been disappointing, but hey, there was always one black sheep in the family. Azazel had been the one in his, and look how he'd turned out. Everything would work out fine.

Azazel huffed out a pleased laugh and headed for the elevator, certain that his son would have done the job he had given to him but wanting to make sure. He didn't want those damn Winchesters coming back to try and beat him again... they were stubborn, he'd give them that. Not that they were any kind of real threat. They didn't have the Colt, and that was the only thing that could kill him, as well as being the key that he'd need before all of this was done.

He'd get it, though. Azazel had his ways, and they were much better than the petty attempts the hunters had made so far. Part of him was irritated by the hunters, in the same way one would be annoyed by an insect, but they were so amusing, half the fun of this tedious plan.

As he stepped into the elevator, he heard the vague murmur of voices coming around the corridor. He paused, deciding it couldn't hurt to have a look at what his children were up to. Instead of going up like he had planned to, Azazel stepped out of the elevator and ducked into the doorway next to it, slipping behind the closed door just as Sam, Ava and Jake came past.

"So, like, where are we going?" Ah, Ava. Such a good little actress. She'd go far.

A sigh from Sam. "I don't know, Ava. I don't know where they are!" Ooh, Sammy was having trouble keeping his head. Azazel couldn't wait to see his reaction when he found out what had happened to his family. All of that rage, all of that power... yes, Sam was going win this thing, but the others were gonna put up one hell of a fight.

Jake's voice came next, a deep voice that barely covered the panic the boy must have been feeling. "Well, we gotta start somewhere." The kids were standing in front of the elevator doors now. "The only way is up."

Sam glanced over his shoulder. For a moment Azazel thought the boy had spotted him, but if he had he didn't say so. He looked edgy, and Azazel had a feeling it wasn't just from missing his family. Those demon blood cravings had to be getting pretty nasty by now. He'd hold out, but for how much longer?

"Okay," said Sam. "Let's go."

"What?" Ava's voice squeaked. She was good at playing the scared little victim, Azazel noted. If Sam didn't win this, Ava would be an excellent leader of Hell. He had chosen his children well. "We don't even know what's up there! What if there are more weirdos there?"

"Gotta take that chance, don't we?" Jake snapped. His temper was fraying already, it seemed. It couldn't be the demon blood; he wouldn't be feeling the pangs yet, only the power. "C'mon." Jake was the first into the elevator, followed by Ava and then Sam, who was still frowning, obviously hesitant to leave in case his family were still down here. Azazel smirked, unable to help himself. Sam wouldn't need to worry about that for much longer.

Making a snap decision, he stepped out of the room he'd been lurking in and followed the kids into the elevator, just as the doors slid shut behind them. "Howdy, kids."

Ava jumped and Jake looked startled, having been focused on the buttons until this point. Sam, however, just looked pissed. "Where's my family, you son of a bitch?"

Azazel tutted. "Language, Sammy-boy." So much anger. It would be difficult to keep in check, but if he could harness it... Azazel shook the thoughts away, concentrating on the situation at hand. "So how's it going?"

"Answer the question," snarled Sam, stepping towards him as well as he could in the confined space. Ava put a tentative hand on his arm, trying to stop him, but Sam brushed her off easily.

Shrugging, Azazel replied, "No idea." He grinned. It wasn't exactly a lie. His son would have lured the Winchesters away to their deaths, but he didn't know exactly how the kid had gone about it. "Sorry."

"You're lying," Sam said. He looked as though he was about to say something else, but stopped when he remembered who else was with them.

Azazel smiled pleasantly at Ava and Jake. "So, guys," he said, leaning against the wall. "How d'you like this place so far?"

"What do you even want with us?" There was genuine fear in Ava's eyes, which Azazel supposed was only to be expected. She was experiencing this stuff for the first time, after all.

He shrugged. "I'd rather not reveal the plan so early in the game, kids. Ruins the fun, ya know?"

"You're crazy," said Jake, and he reached over and quickly slammed one of the buttons, like he thought Azazel would try to stop him.

Azazel raised an eyebrow. "Maybe, but I've spoken to all of you kiddies. I know the real you. And someone here," he glanced around at them, letting his glee shine from his face, "has been keeping secrets."

All three of them paled, glanced at each other. But of course - they were all keeping secrets, weren't they? Well, this was going to be fun. They'd all turn on each other, soon enough. Azazel had just helped the process along.

The elevator lurched to a halt on the first floor and the doors slid open. "This is my stop," said Azazel cheerfully. "I'll see you kids later." And he strode out of the elevator, confident that they wouldn't want to follow him. They were trying to keep away from him, after all.

As he left, the first sounds of dissension in the ranks reached his ears. "Alright." It was Jake. "I think we need to talk about this."

Faster. He needed to drive faster. Dean could be de- no. Dean could be in a hell of a lot of trouble, but Dean was definitely alive. Winchesters were stubborn idjits. They didn't just keel over and die.

Still, Bobby pressed the pedal just a little harder. He'd be there soon.

After what couldn't have been more than half an hour – though it felt much longer – a blue wreck of a car came into sight, motionless in the middle of the road. This had to be it. Bobby pulled up next to the car, his alarm only increasing when he saw Dean in the driver's seat, unconscious.

"Son of a-" Bobby cut himself off, hurriedly climbing out of his truck and rushing round to where Dean was. He yanked the car door open (Dean probably hadn't been thinking about locking the doors, more focused on escaping) and leaned in to get a good look at Dean.

He was unconscious, blood matting his hair and when Bobby felt for a bruise he found a decent-sized lump that made Dean groan when he poked it. "Sorry, kid," muttered Bobby, just glad for some reaction. "You gotta wake up, though." He tapped Dean's cheek as hard as he dared. "Dean!"

Dean wrinkled his nose and a tiny groan escaped his lips, but his eyes didn't open. Bobby swore. "Dean! Come on!" He needed Dean to wake up, needed to know that at least one of these idjits was gonna be okay. Then they could go rescue the other two, but they couldn't do that if Dean was unconscious.

"Dean," snapped Bobby, hoping the harsh tone would be enough to shock Dean into consciousness. "You need to wake up."

Dean's eyelids fluttered. "Sam's in danger," Bobby said after a moment in which Dean didn't wake up. Playing the Sam card was a low blow, but Dean had to wake up and even in unconsciousness, Dean had the urge to protect his brother.

"Huh?" Dean slurred out, his eyes finally cracking open.

"'Bout time," huffed Bobby, relieved just to see Dean awake. "How ya feelin'?"

Dean frowned, trying to sit up and then grimacing as he shifted his head. "Just peachy," he muttered as Bobby pushed a hand down on his chest, trying to keep Dean from moving too much.

"Hold still, I gotta see how bad this is." He headed back to his truck and grabbed the first aid kit from beneath the seats. He was back within the minute. The kit opened with a click and Bobby dug around inside for gauze and pain pills, grabbing a tiny flashlight while he was at it. "Here," he said, handing Dean a couple of Tylenol pills. Dean frowned at them but quickly swallowed them, grimacing a little. As he was doing that, Bobby grabbed his face as gently as he could and flicked the light on, shining it into Dean's eyes.

"Hey!" Dean batted him away, blinking rapidly. "What the hell?"

So much for getting this done quickly.

It took much longer than he would have liked to get Dean cleaned up and make sure he wasn't about to keel over. John could be halfway across the state by now and Dean was in no condition to be running around, but Bobby knew he wouldn't be able to stop him.

"Alright," he said once they were both settled in his truck. "Which way?"

Once they were headed in the right direction, a heavy silence descended over them. Bobby knew the chances of them finding John anywhere near where Dean had left him were slim to none, and after that they had few leads, if any. And how the hell were they meant to trap the demon, once they found it? Holy water might not be enough.

It was with no small amount of surprise that they found John standing in the middle of the road exactly where Dean had left him. Bobby drew to a halt, swallowing. He'd only faced off a few demons in his life and it wasn't a pleasant experience – especially his first one. Still, the Winchesters needed his help, damn idjits, and he couldn't do anything but provide it. They had to do this. He glanced over at Dean. "Don't suppose it'd help if I told ya to stay here."

Dean gave a wry grin. "You know me." Bobby sighed, nodded, and handed Dean a squirt-bottle of holy water.

"Be careful. We don't know what this thing wants."

Dean snorted. "It wants to gank us."

"Yeah, well." Bobby said nothing more, but he had his doubts. Why hadn't the thing attacked them yet? He swung his door open, hearing Dean do the same, and stepped out onto the road, holy water in one hand, exorcism in the other. This was suicide. Absolute suicide.

But they didn't have another option.

They stepped out onto the road. The demon didn't move, just watched as they approached it.

"Had to call for backup, huh Deano?"

Bobby saw Dean's jaw clench, but there was no reaction other than that. Smart kid. "What d'you want, you sonuvabitch?" Bobby asked instead, trying to draw the attention to him as Dean edged towards the demon.

"What I want," the demon said, striding towards Bobby, "is for the Winchesters to die. Among other things," it added casually.

Bobby took another step. "Why?"

He didn't get his answer. Dean had lunged at the demon, spraying holy water like a mad man and Bobby, seeing this as the only opportunity he'd get, began to recite the exorcism. The demon hissed and fought, trying to get Dean off, but the younger man had the upper hand, keeping the demon pinned with a constant attack of holy water.

Bobby kept on going, the exorcism coming easily to him. This had been much easier than he expected.

Then, suddenly, a plume of black smoke came shooting from John's mouth, spiralling up into the sky. Bobby was immediately on his guard, expecting it to go into Dean or himself, but the smoke shot off down the road and disappeared.

There was a long pause. "Dad?" asked Dean hesitantly. Bobby turned his attention back to the Winchesters.

"Yeah," John said shakily. "Yeah, it's me."

"Thank God," said Dean, and he rolled off his dad and onto the road. Bobby really hoped there were no cars coming.

"C'mon, ya idjits," he said. "We gotta get going."

John scrambled to his feet, grimacing a little, and then grasped Dean's arm and hauled him up. Dean made little grunting noises and nearly pitched forward again, only stopped by John's arm as the older man half-dragged him towards the car. They all piled into the truck, John and Dean in the back, Bobby up front.

"We need to go back," John said hoarsely as Bobby started up the truck. "We need to get Sam."

"Yeah?" Bobby looked out at the slowly darkening sky. "How ya gonna do that?"

There was a resounding silence from both Winchesters, and Bobby sighed. "Look." He glanced over his shoulder. "Ya ain't gonna do Sam any good if ya go chargin' in, guns blazin'. We need to think about this." He pushed on the accelerator and started the drive back to the town they'd just come from. "We'll get a motel room and plan this thing. We'll get your boy back, John," he promised, hoping they weren't just empty words. "But we gotta be careful."

John took a shaky breath. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay." He turned his full attention to Dean after that, and Bobby focused on the road. There was silence for the rest of the drive.

When they finally pulled into the first crappy motel they came across, it was dark outside. Bobby booked two rooms, one for John and Dean and one for him. They all piled into one room first, needing to get started on their plan of attack as well as patch Dean up. The kid's head had to be hell by this point. It was a wonder he'd made it as long as he had.

Dean sank down onto the edge of one of the beds, feet resting on the carpet which probably hadn't been brown originally, even if it was now. John crouched in front of him, examining his head and refusing to meet his son's eye. Bobby hadn't realised until now that it had been John in there with the demon as it attacked his son, John who had been forced to watch as Dean nearly died, who had been made to leave his other son behind.

That was bound to leave a mark.

"Looks good," John said in his usual gravelly voice. "Bobby patch this up?"

"Yeah," said Dean impatiently. "Dad, I'm fine. We gotta get Sam!" He started to stand up but John pushed him back down.

"We can't do anything for him right now, Dean," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "We'll get him back, I promise."

Feeling like he was intruding, Bobby shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Only the trill of his cell phone alerted the Winchesters to his presence once more. Wondering who the hell was calling him and thinking that if it was Rufus the idjit could drive himself home from the bar, Bobby pulled out his phone and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Is this Bobby Singer?" came an unfamiliar voice.

Bobby frowned. "Yeah. Who's this?" John and Dean were watching him now, obviously curious. Bobby was pretty damn curious himself. Every so often he'd get a call from a new contact, someone who'd heard he was the best researcher in the game and needed a hand, but something told him that wasn't the case this time.

"The name's Daniel Elkins. I heard you were lookin' for me." There was a pause and a shuffling noise in the background. "Well, lookin' for the Colt."

Suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation, Bobby nodded even though the man couldn't see him. "You heard right."

"Well," said Elkins, "I reckon I can help you with that."