** See Part One for full story notes and disclaimers.

PART TEN NOTES: Thank you for the great comments and speculations from Part 9. I always love hearing where you think the story's going to go. Enjoy Part 10! Huge thanks go to Jack and Lyn for their amazing, super-speed beta work. Any remaining mistakes are purely mine as I tend to fiddle up until the very last minute. And I mean that literally this time. (vbg) As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

BANNER INFO: I've finished a title banner for the story and it can be found at the following link: http: / i1125 . photobucket . com / albums / l582 / elerimc / Banners / IAHtitle . jpg. Copy and remove spaces to access.

Part Ten

THEN...

Jo had entrusted her with a task more important than her sensibilities. It had seemed so easy to agree while standing in front of the memorial he'd built. Now she knew why Jo had been so insistent, so unwilling to let her go without emphasizing reality. Everything Dean did was to find his brother, to save the people he could along the way. He hadn't killed the demon in the chair for revenge. There wasn't even the smallest trace of pleasure in his eyes, only a weary acceptance of necessity.

She stood across the room, staring at him braced for her anger, her censure, and answered his question with one of her own. "What do we do with the body?"

NOW...

Yet again, Veronica shocked the hell out of him. It seemed as if that's all she'd been doing ever since she'd dropped into his life less than a week ago. Only a minute earlier her face had been filled with horror. He'd known she wasn't ready to witness what had to be done, but he didn't have the luxury of easing her into the world of hunting demons. The escalation of prisoner transfers into the area wasn't something he could sit on while his ride along got her feet wet. So he'd thrown her in head first, changing nothing in his approach compared to if he'd been alone. But as he watched, the horror faded, replaced by a steel resiliency he'd seen a glimpse of at the barn where their eyes had first met. And then she asked how they were getting rid of a body he'd just tortured mercilessly.

Something hard within him cracked, a tiny fissure in the granite wall holding him together. It let a wave of sensation through, so strong it pummeled his insides, beating at the protective shell that had kept him sane for over four centuries in Hell. His left shoulder burned, a reminder of the mystery mark set into his flesh when he'd escaped the Gate. He set the rag on the table next to the container of salt, sheathing the glistening knife without thought. Veronica waited patiently, her face giving him no indication she was worried about the dangerous freak who'd just murdered a woman. "We salt and burn her at least half an hour away. The smoke can't lead back to here." His voice was almost its normal graveled self, only the slightest tremor he doubted even Sam could have heard.

"I'll take her feet." She stepped forward, nothing in her demeanor telling him she was about to hurl over the thought of touching a dead body. He added an iron stomach to the growing list of positive things her presence brought.

It was, however, unnecessary. "You hold onto the shotgun. I can get her."

Scanning his face for a long moment, she nodded and turned back for the weapon. "So what do you think? About what she said, I mean?"

"She had no reason to lie other than that she's a demon and demons lie. It's a preprogrammed fact." He removed the silver blade from the demon's limp arm and released the ropes. He placed a hand on the body's shoulder to keep it from slumping forward without its restraints. "But it's a start. Tomorrow we grab another minnow for confirmation. Rinse and repeat until I know what's the truth and what's the lie." Veronica held the door open for him as he walked the body through. It was never a pleasant task, but at least demons weren't likely to bleed all over him or, worse yet, drip urine. They could keep the body's normal functions going but few of them bothered. He'd only ever seen a handful eat and he knew none of them had actually needed it.

"Do you want me to drive again?" Veronica asked as he shut the tailgate with a heavy thud.

"No, I got it. Hop in." With one last look at the body, he pulled open the driver's door. What did it say about his state of being that he was glad he didn't have to bother with covering her? There was no one to pull him over.

He checked the fuel gauge automatically, pleased to see he still had a pretty good reserve left. For a decades old vehicle, it was great on economy. Then again, his own tweaks had probably done more for it than the original designers. The hundred gallon tank he'd welded onto the back wall of the cab didn't hurt either. It had been easy enough to run a line into the engine compartment and changing between tanks was as easy as a flip of a switch. There were enough gas stations dotted around the country with both working power and huge fuel reserves left in their giant underground tanks. So few hunters remained Dean doubted they'd run through the remaining gas in a couple of decades.

He and Veronica spoke little during the trip and Dean was more than happy to keep the silence. The unasked for release of emotions was still roiling in his chest, popping up every time he dropped his guard. He'd spent so long drowning in the hate and pain, the hunt and survival, the unexpectedness of anything else was a flame to his battered soul.

When he thought they'd gone far enough, he pulled off of the highway toward a town that had seen its better days long before the demons came. It didn't take long to find a supply of wood capable of burning and Veronica helped him gather enough for a proper blaze. They stacked a flat pile of the 2x4s and broken plywood on a fairly large spot of concrete behind what had once been a convenience store then laid the body on top. He liberally sprinkled salt and accelerant over the wood and the body. In less than a minute, the stench of burning hair and flesh overpowered the sharp bite of kerosene. Dean didn't say anything when Veronica clapped a hand over her nose and mouth, her face paling even further in the last light of the setting sun. She didn't back away though and she gained yet another point in his ever-growing tally. She'd said she was originally from California and Dean had to wonder if there was something in the water in that state. Madison, the horrifically unknowing werewolf who'd begged Sam to kill her, had shown the same mettle and determination.

The leaping flames finally settled down to a sustained, slow burn that would take hours to die out. Dean scanned the area yet again, happy with the lack of possible secondary combustible material. It was time to go. She would finish burning on her own.

Veronica held her silence until they were back on the highway, her face lost in the shadows of the cab. "So tomorrow's the same plan? Snatch and run?"

"Yep. But we'll head to the northern reaches of the camp lines this time. Random peons who won't be missed don't draw unwanted attention. I doubt we'd get more than one shot at someone higher up the food chain. I want as much as I can get before we start thinking about trolling those waters." The headlights wove in and out of the pure darkness of the night. Streetlights had gone the way of the dodo after the first few months of the occupation. Demons liked their electricity well enough, but they apparently hadn't seen the need to waste it on non-essentials.

"I take it they don't care much for the worker bees?"

It was an interesting analogy, but at least with bees the queen knew exactly how many she had in her hive. "Expendable, every one of them. But work up enough power and leaders like Lilith start to take notice." His mouth tightened at the sound of the name. He still owed her for her part in his deal. Yeah, he'd made it with his eyes wide open, but that didn't mean he was going to forgive her for opening that damn door. Bitch was going to pay for that and for even thinking she wanted Sam's head on a plate.

"So if we do need to trap that one demon, it's game on?" When he nodded without taking his eyes from the road she sighed, loud enough for him to hear over the roar of the engine. "Then I guess we need to make sure we get the right one."

They were silent the rest of the drive. Dean wasn't sorry for the quiet although he was a little surprised Veronica didn't have any more questions for him. Maybe she'd figured out hunting in this new world was made up of stumbling along until he ran into what he needed to put the pieces together, kind of like the call that had brought the two of them into each other's lives. He scrubbed a hand over his face, the uneven skin of his scar unexpected even after so many months. Veronica had said it perfectly. They needed luck, but that was something he had never been on very good terms with.

Six days and six demons later Dean doubted there was anything else to learn from the demons they'd been targeting. Each had told the same story, with varying degrees of encouragement from him. They were trying to get the Gate open and had failed spectacularly so far. None of them were sure what the specifics were on what had been attempted, just that none of them had worked. One demon had spoken about an area of the camp no one except Lilith and her chosen few were allowed near. Dean's heart had leapt at the information and it had been hard to keep his face carefully controlled as if there was nothing special about what the demon had said.

They returned from burning their seventh demon as the sun was setting, the sky a magnificent vision of orange and red clouds. Dean's body thrummed with anticipation and not a little fear. Tomorrow he could learn exactly where his brother was. Then again, his plan might fall apart, getting him and Veronica killed before they made it halfway into the camp. Actually, death was the best case scenario in the event of failure. Success was contingent on everything going right. There was no backup plan. No do over. He shut the door of the truck, catching Veronica's gaze over the hood. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can radio Jo. Drop you three hundred miles from here. She'll come get you."

Steel filled her eyes, a look he'd caught more than one glimpse of after he'd killed that first demon wearing a woman's body. "You're not doing this alone, Dean. The plan calls for both of us. I'm not abandoning you."

Somehow he got the feeling she was talking about far more than simply the next few days. He nodded, setting the idea aside for later contemplation. He'd never really thought about after, his entire world focused on the search for his brother. Hopefully there would be a later to worry about. "Anybody ever mention you are more than one kind of crazy?"

"I believe it's been tossed around a few times," she said, the steel softening but not disappearing. "Usually just before I pulled off some insane stunt no one else thought would work."

"Here's to tradition then. May it not dangle us over the fire."

She chuckled and followed him into the cabin. He heard her fixing the salt line at the door and smiled slightly. He had to admit she'd come a long way in the last week. She hadn't shied away the first time he'd had to get overly aggressive with a demon. The bone-handled knife caused tremendous amounts of pain if not used in a fatal area, slowly frying a demon in its meat suit. He'd been forced into using it twice when the more mundane tactics had failed to break them. She hadn't flinched. She had, in fact, suggested he dribble a few drops of holy water into the pulsing wound, her voice flat and calm. Both demons had started talking.

They spent the evening much as they had the others. Veronica had turned out to be a not half bad poker player and while they'd only found a much abused deck of cards and no chips, they hadn't been the worst hours of his life. If he had Jo and a few solid days, he thought he might be able to turn Veronica into a fairly good hustler. She already had the basics down. She only lacked instruction from the best. Dinner consisted of the same cold trail rations they'd eaten for every other meal. He'd have set up snares their first night or even taken down a deer if the camp hadn't been so close. He couldn't chance the possibility of any smoke giving their hideout away. Even a so-called smokeless fire had some signs of presence and demons were nothing if not attuned to flame.

It was during their last hand of the evening she asked the question he'd been expecting for days. "What's your brother like? It sounded like you two were inseparable growing up." There was more than a hint of wistfulness in her voice, her face.

Her ingenuous use of the present tense was a punch to the gut, stealing his breath and clenching his hand around a pair of twos and fives. He forced his lungs into motion and his eyes to meet hers. "Only child, huh?" He didn't need her nod to know the guess had been correct. Even with the stalling tactic he had no idea how he was going to answer her until the words were out. "Sam's a pain in the ass little brother. He always wants to know why. His mouth got us into more trouble than mine ever did and don't let him tell you otherwise." The description should have surprised him, but it didn't. He could see Veronica reading between the lines and her lips softened into a smile, her eyes muted in the dim glow of the battered Coleman lantern.

"And he opened the Devil's Gate for you."

There was nothing he could say to that and he didn't even try. He cleared his throat quickly and laid his cards out. "Two pair. And I doubt you got that inside straight you were betting on." Betting was a loose term since they'd been using dry crackers for money, but it was the concept that counted.

She set her cards on the table, shaking her head. "Nope. I did scrounge up a pair though." She collected the cards absently, her fingers nimble and practiced as she shuffled. "I'm glad you had each other growing up. Dean," she said, grabbing his hand to bring his gaze to hers, the cards forgotten. "We'll find him and we'll get him out."

His skin burned where she touched it, the contact visceral, almost overwhelming the newly cracked wall deep inside. He pushed to his feet, the folding metal chair scraping away from the table with a shuddering squeal. She let him go and pulled her hand back slowly, staring up at him with her electric eyes. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow. We should get some rest."

"Right." It wasn't sarcasm, but it was close enough to be kin to it. She left the cards on the table and headed to the corner of the cabin she'd claimed as her own.

He stopped, eyes staring blindly through the opposite wall. Veronica had done everything he'd demanded of her and more. Yet he couldn't even get over himself enough to respond to her well-meant reassurance? It was like having a mini-Sam on his shoulder. When had he so totally lost connection to basic human emotions? "Veronica?" He felt more than heard her turn, her gaze a heavy weight on his back. "Thanks."

Her smile was heat and light all in one caress. "You're welcome, Dean."

Despite knowing what the next day would entail, he slept soundly, waking to the sound of a bird happily annoying every living creature within a one mile radius. "The sun's not coming up for another two hours, you idiot," he mumbled in the bird's general direction. A glance across the room told him Veronica was oblivious to the noisemaker. Lucky her. He got dressed quietly, wanting her to sleep as long as possible. He grabbed the battered leather journal Jo had managed to salvage from the wreckage of Bobby's home and settled into one of the chairs. Though he'd memorized every exorcism in it, and more, long before his sojourn in Hell, it never hurt to take some time for a refresher. It had only taken once getting trapped in a basement with a demon and no exorcism readily available. He always had learned fast. He lit the lantern with quick, practiced motions, setting the mantles just bright enough to see the words. Leaning forward over the journal, he lost himself in Latin.

When Veronica crawled out of her sleeping bag, the sun was bright enough in the cabin to have her squinting. Dean chuckled quietly, earning himself a glare of early morning blue frost. "Don't give me that. You're the one who wanted to come along. You could be sleeping in a nice comfy bed right about now."

"And once my back unkinks I'll remember that. Just keep your amusement to yourself and we won't have any problems."

"Sure thing, sweetheart." The expected glare only made his smile widen.

She stretched her arms above her head, face wincing with each audible pop. "When do you want to head out?"

Setting aside the journal, Dean crossed an ankle over the opposite knee. "As soon as you're ready. It'll take a couple of hours to get to the camp border and then maybe another one to find the section of fencing away from the tents. A naturalist the demon wasn't." Actually, the demon's directions had been worse than anything Sam had ever dredged up. But Dean had a general area at least. He'd find it. He could only wish his night vision goggles hadn't gotten smashed months ago. Going in at night would have been at least a little less insane, but there was no use in wishing. He had to play the cards he was dealt.

"Okay. I just need a few."

Leaving Veronica to her stretches and minimal ablutions, he went through the smaller bag of portable demon trapping supplies for the third time. He added another few sets of rock salt rounds as well as another container of holy water. Hefting it, he decided the total weight was a little heavy but nothing that would slow him measurably when they were forced to run. Veronica would have her own supply of holy water, salt and ammo. She'd proven to have more stamina than her frame suggested. He didn't care if the camps or nature had given it to her. He was just glad it existed.

One hour, fifty-three minutes later, he parked the truck deep into a stand of whitebark pines, their low hanging branches cutting the silhouette effectively. He barely squeezed through his door, the trees were so close. Veronica slid across the seats after him. Her door wouldn't open enough to let a mouse through let alone a full grown woman. They were screwed if it came down to needing the protection the truck promised. Veronica might be able to make it into the cab without damage. He could cover her if it came down to it.

They secured their packs and weapons, locked the truck and headed out. Dean searched for the landmarks the demon had given him as they moved over the landscape. She'd only had to use her senses to know exactly where she was in relation to the others. While Dean had his own special ability, pinpointing demons from a distance wasn't something he'd taken away from Hell.

"Wait a second," Veronica said, lifting one hand to point off toward her right. "Does that tree look a little exploded to you?"

That had been the description the demon had used. "It's more exploded than the rest of them." They angled toward it, looking for another landmark to confirm their position. Dean saw it less than five minutes later, the two rocks leaning drunkenly toward each other. A smile lifted his lips. Jo would never believe they'd followed trees and rocks to the camp. He'd done some crazy things during a hunt, but this was going into the top ten strangest list without a doubt. "I guess it really is the second star to the right."

"'And straight on 'til morning?'" She finished the quote, eyebrows raised as she looked at him. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a 'Peter Pan' fan."

If he didn't know it to be completely impossible, he would have sworn a flush was working its way up his neck. "Sam liked the books when he was a kid. Some teacher got him hooked."

Laughing, Veronica's face glowed with an inner light he'd never seen grace her features. The impossible flush faded into the background of his awareness. "You make it sound like she gave him heroin, not a children's book."

"With our upbringing, spending too much time with kids that never wanted to grow up wasn't the smart choice. We had to be adults before our tenth birthdays."

"It might not have been the smartest choice, Dean, but maybe it turned out to be the best one. You still remember it, right?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady. Thankfully, he spotted the mesh fence of the camp border through the thinning trees before she would have expected a reply. He signaled Veronica to find a good hiding place as he did the same. He pulled the spotter's scope from the front pocket of his backpack and scanned the line of fence as far as he could see. As best as he could compile from the demons, the camp was roughly a two mile square with the cemetery and Devil's Gate smack dab in the middle. The surrounding area was used to house the demons and their few human workers. When he'd asked about the prisoners transferred in at regular intervals, they'd only been able to tell him they arrived and were never seen again. Staring out across the pockets of trees interspersed throughout the barren area, Dean finally believed them. Four square miles of humans, even demon hosting ones, should have some signs of life. There was no movement, only tents of varying sizes, ramshackle sheds that looked like a good puff of air would knock them over and one sturdy building holding reign over them all.

Every instinct within him screamed to head straight for that building. Sam could very well be inside it. But the cold, analytical part of his brain held out. Stick to the plan, Dean, it said. Rushing in blind will get you killed. The plan only might get you killed. As much as he hated that damn voice, it had saved him numerous times during the last year. His hand clenched around the scope and he forced himself to continue.

The fence itself would pose no trouble whatsoever. A basic set of wire cutters would have them through to the other side in mere moments. If Veronica's luck held, they'd make it to the second set of tents before getting spotted. They weren't very deep into the camp, but they didn't have to be. He pinpointed the main entrance to the south from the dirt track worn into the grass and weeds and followed it to a third cluster of tents. It was easily half a mile from the main building. A do-able distance, but it wouldn't be the most relaxing of trips. There were no roving patrols, just as his demon prisoners had assured him. What would be the point? Thankfully, the vehicles were also where they were supposed to be. It was the mostly likely point of failure in the whole gambit, but there was nothing he could do about that either. And stalling wasn't going to make the next few hours any less painful, he told himself. It was time to move.

He motioned Veronica closer, handing her the scope. She performed her own visual recon while he checked that the knife slid smoothly in its sheath. "Any last minute questions?"

"Aside from the obvious, nope." Without warning, she leaned close and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Don't get dead."

She was gone before he could decide what to do with the unexpected kiss. Tiny fires flared from the spot, tingling along his scar. One of these days he was going to have to figure out what to do about his reaction every time she touched him. More specifically, if he wanted to do anything about it. He shook off the distracting thoughts and handed her the second set of wire cutters.

"Time to rattle the cage."

cont.