So the penultimate chapter is up! I hope you enjoy.

Words: 3500

Warnings: Explicit language and gore

CHAPTER 12

A horrified silence fell over the group. Gaping, open-mouthed at Garcia, every agent spluttered their own exclamations of disbelief, bewilderment and shock.

"I..." Prentiss began, but words failed her. She opened and closed her mouth several times before continuing, "She's... I don't understand. She's..."

"It's the demon," Dean explained solemnly, his voice rough and low. "Her body is dying. The only thing keeping her alive right now is that demon. They can posses a dead body if they want..."

"So... what happens if we remove it?" Morgan asked, terrorized by the sight of her like that, impaled, but grinning up at them all.

The others looked to the Winchesters, waiting for a reply, but Sam merely looked up at them as tears began to fill his eyes, and said nothing. Suddenly he looked ten years old.

As everyone's hearts filled with dread, Garcia opened her mouth and the demon began to taunt them again.

"Aw, poor bitties! What are you doing to do now, hm?" she teased.

"Call an ambulance." Sam muttered between gritted teeth, as he stared her down, his face a contortion of anger and brokenness.

There was a second where nobody moved, then Hotch reacted, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling 911. He gave their position, explained they had an officer down and called for backup.

The demon giggled. "Maybe you should say hello to your friend before you do that..."

She closed her eyes. But when she opened them again, they were entirely different. All the colour had returned to them, and suddenly it was Penelope looking around at them. She looked terrified, and it took her a second to get her bearings. Then she looked down and noticed the pole protruding for her stomach and made a horrified gasp.

"Penelope?!" Sam rushed toward her, taking hold of her shoulders as she raised her head and met his gaze.

"There was... there was this black smoke and... I was terrified! I couldn't move but I could see what was happening, oh god! I... I hurt people! I couldn't move, but something else, that... that thing, that smoke... And I could feel all of you, all of your hearts ceasing up but I couldn't do anything to stop it!"

"Hey, hey, Penelope," Morgan assured her as he swept to her side, "It's okay. It's okay. You're gonna be fine. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you again, you hear me?"

She nodded, but then her attention turned once again to the bloody pole sticking out of her dress. "What's happening?" she whimpered as a tear escaped her eye and rolled down the side of her cheek.

Sam looked up into her eyes compassionately. He swallowed the painful lump in his throat before he spoke, softly and reassuringly. "There's a demon inside you. Um... it's the only thing that's keeping you alive at the moment. But we need to exorcise it."

Penelope's mouth opened, then she shut it again as her lip began to tremble and more tears escaped, sliding down her face.

Morgan, whose cheeks were also stained with tears took her hand, gripping it tight as he said, "We're all here. We're not going anywhere babygirl."

"What's going to happen?" she asked, horrified, turning to look at the other members of the team.

"We need to exorcise it." Sam repeated slowly, then bit his lip, deciding not to say any more.

"We're here with you," JJ assured her, stepping forward as she nodded, mustering her best smile.

Garcia looked around once more, then her attention turned to Sam as he spoke.

He shook his head as he looked at her through glassy eyes, desperately blinking back tears. "I'm so sorry..." he whispered.

Then Garcia nodded, pressing her lips together as she swallowed, hard. "Do it." she said simply.

"I'm here, Penelope, right here, holding onto your hand. You feel that?" Morgan asked as he held her hand up and squeezed it tight. "That's you and me. That's life in your hands. So you keep gripping, okay? Don't you let go."

But Sam had already begun muttering the exorcism spell, and within seconds Garcia was no longer herself again. As a darkness swallowed her eyes, she began to struggle, as though fighting an invisible force inside of her.

She began hissing, gritting her teeth together as her fists curled into balls, the demon desperately clinging to her body. As she began to convulse, still straining to fight off the spell, the other members of the team watched in terror, holding their breath, barely able to watch the exorcism unfold.

She opened her mouth and choked on a thick black smoke as it started to escape from her body.

Looking up at Sam fiercely, the demon hissed, "You're too late."

Sam continued.

"She'll never make it!"

Sam's voice trailed off as he paused for a moment. He looked down at her with the saddest eyes they'd ever seen, took a deep breath, then he whispered, with a rough, shaking voice. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

As he finished the spell, Garcia's head was thrown back and the demon left, spiralling up in a pillar of black smoke, which disappeared in a glow of red on the ceiling.

Instantly, Garcia collapsed to the floor, and the team rushed towards her. As Morgan's strong hands caught her, she cried out in pain, then coughed. Blood spluttered from her mouth as she heaved painful breaths, gasping for air.

Sam stood, frozen with his eyes glued to her as she struggled, gasping for air and trying to bite back the pain.

As sirens back blaring in the distance, Hotch removed his jacket and placed it carefully under her head as he and Morgan lay her tentatively down onto her back. Fighting back tears, the team leader looked into her eyes and mustered the most convincing smile he could.

"Everything's going to be fine," he assured her with a quiet, gentle voice, "We're here. We're all here with you."

As Rossi looked on, holding his breath and biting his lip, Garcia's eyes began to flicker closed as the pain consumed her and a great weight seemed to pull at her eyelids.

"No, babygirl, come on! You have to stay with me." Morgan ushered, gripping her hand again and interlacing his fingers with hers, "Don't you go going anywhere. Don't you die on me Penelope, you can't do that to me!"

JJ wiped the tears away from her eyes, taking a deep breath as she looked down at the scene. Emily glanced up for a moment at Sam, catching his gaze, but feeling a sharp pain in her chest, looked away immediately.

"Come on, Garcia, don't you die on me! Don't you die on me!" Morgan called, his voice getting louder as her eyes closed again and he gripped her hand tighter, "No, Penelope? Penelope!"

Barely containing a scream, JJ turned and embraced Prentiss, throwing her arms around her as Emily gripped her tight. The two women clung to one another, burying their tear-stained faces into each other's necks as they silently prayed for everything to be okay. Rossi looked on, never having felt so helpless before, while Hotch and Morgan remained at her side, calling her name, trying to rouse her.

As Castiel made a grunt on the other side of the room, Dean pulled himself up and rushed back to his side.

"Cas?" he mumbled, looking into his deep blue eyes as they opened slowly. Breathing a huge sigh of relief again, he managed a small smile, gripping Castiel's shoulders as he said, "You're okay. We're okay..."

Sam was still stood there, staring at Penny with stubborn tears escaping his abandoned defences and rolling down his cheek. He felt Dean pull at his sleeve, but, unable to tear his gaze away from Garcia, he didn't move.

"Sam," Dean urged, "We need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving Penny." Sam hissed, turning to look at his brother angrily.

"Sam... there's nothing we can do for her now." he reminded his brother, "There's an ambulance and probably a dozen police cars headed our way! They've got her now." he said, nodding towards the team of FBI agents gathered around her as she lay, bloody and broken on the church floor.

Sam pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

"Sam, please. We need to get out of here!" Dean urged as he pulled Cas to his feet and slung his arm over his shoulder. "I can't carry him alone."

"He's right," Rossi said quietly, glancing over at the Winchesters. "You should get out of here while you can. We've got Garcia."

Eventually, Sam tore himself away from the others, and seeing his brother barely able to stand, he took Cas over his shoulder and ushered the two of them out through the back entrance.

As the team stood over Garcia, they heard the roar of the Impala and screeching of wheels against the tarmac, seconds before paramedics and a SWAT team stormed the building.

-o- -o- -o-

Dean and Sam arrived back in the bunker looking like hell, and the minute he heard movement behind him, Reid jumped up, clinging to his gun with a trembling hand as he turned to look at the staircase the Winchesters descended.

Dean was pale, struggling to keep his eyes open, wihle Sam's eyes looked red and raw. With one arm slung over Sam's shoulder, a man Reid could only assume was Castiel shuffled his feet clumsily along the floor as he was half-carried into the library and laid down on a chair.

Reid's eyes darted back and forth between the three men, waiting for some sort of explanation. His eyes were sunken and his skin even paler than before. He looked ill, which wasn't surprising since he was standing on a shut-up leg in a bunker where he'd recently witnessed the demonic possession and abduction of two of his friends.

"It's fine," Dean assured him as he made his way over to Cas, "Everything's fine. We did it. We stopped the spell."

"Where's everyone else? Hotch? Morgan? Wh... where's my team?" the agent stumbled over his words clumsily as he looked at them, then the door, desperate to hear that his team was okay.

He felt a weight drop in the pit of his stomach when Sam couldn't meet his gaze or give him an answer. Instead, the younger hunter, who stood at six foot four with the broadest shoulders Reid had ever seen, hung his head and looked away with tear-filled eyes. He'd never seemed so small.

It was Dean who finally gave him an answer. "Something happened..." he mumbled, also looking away. Inspecting Castiel's wounds for a moment, Dean then added in a different tone, "Sam go get the medical kit."

But Sam didn't move. He seemed stuck, as though lost in his thoughts, consumed by something... was it hopelessness? He just looked so... defeated.

"Sam!" Dean said, a little louder this time, turning to look at his brother, "You can't do anything for her now, it's out of our hands. But you know who we can do something for? Cas. He needs our help right now so will you please go and get the medical kit?"

Swallowing hard, Sam snapped himself out of it and rushed away, returning only seconds later wielding a large blue box. Aiding Dean in getting out the swabs and bandages, Sam took a deep breath, glancing up at his brother for a moment.

"I'm sorry." Dean whispered with earnest as he caught Sam's gaze for a second, before returning his attention to Castiel.

Reid could feel his heart in his chest. Standing helplessly, looking from one Winchester to the other, he asked weakly, "Can't do anything for... who?"

His voice sounded feeble, shaky and quiet. He was almost too afraid to ask, because knowing would be even worse.

"Er, Penelope..." Sam began, stopping his work to return the agent's frightened gaze. "She er... I mean, the demon, it... she's on her way to the hospital now. You should call your team."

-o- -o- -o-

At the hospital, Prentiss continued to resist the doctor's efforts, insisting she was alright.

"I told you, I'm fine!" she insisted.

"Ma'am, you have a broken arm!" a nurse replied, looking hard into her eyes. But Emily just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Morgan too, despite being severely beaten and having an open neck-wound, remained as stubborn as ever.

"Look, I'm telling you I'm fine!" he urged, "Why aren't you tending to my friend? Garcia, she's through there, you need to see her."

"Sir, sit down!" a doctor ordered, marching towards the agent. He barked several orders at the surrounding medical staff, who all jumped into action, before returning his attention to Morgan. "You have a concussion sir, you're covered in bruises and you have an open neck wound that needs seeing to."

"But my friend..." he began as he swallowed hard, biting back tears.

"Your friend is being taken care of!" the doctor assured him, "She's going into surgery now, and you have my word that the minute we have any news, you will be the first to know. I have my best trauma team is on it. But sir, right now you need to sit down."

"I can't... she's..." Morgan began, then he broke down. As all his defences came down, and he crashed from the adrenaline rush, he began sobbing. Then everything began to spin and his legs gave way.

"Sir? Sir!"

Voices all around him started to sound faraway as a large black cloud descended and Morgan could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness.

Rossi and Hotch, who had all sustained fairly minor injuries, and had already been checked over, watched the scene unfold. As Morgan was lifted onto a gurney and wheeled away, along with Prentiss, the two agents looked at each other helplessly, trying to keep their composure.

As they heard familiar voices behind them, they turned to see JJ rushing through the ER entrance, with Reid leaning on her shoulder, limping onto the scene.

As medical staff rushed towards the new agents, a nurse looked down at Reid's bloody leg and looked up, astonished and exhausted.

"You too?!" she exclaimed, "What happened?"

"I got shot..." Reid mumbled awkwardly.

Nodding, she called over for more help, lifting him onto a gurney as well.

"I'm fine," JJ insisted, raising her hands defensively as the nurse turned her attention to her.

The nurse raised an eyebrow as she looked at the bruises and cuts. "You're a stubborn bunch, aren't you? Well, we'll see to you anyway. I'll be with you in a minute."

Nodding, JJ made her away over to Hotch and Rossi, who were standing several metres away, watching their team disappear one by one behind curtains and into other rooms.

Sighing heavily, JJ rubbed her head as she looked around, following their gaze. Then she turned to look at them and said, in a low voice, "Dean's not doing too well either."

Hotch bit the inside of his cheek. "Well they can't go to any local hospital. The local PD know we were after them and we've plastered their face on every screen for forty miles..."

JJ nodded solemnly. "Sam seems okay. Their friend has come to, but he's in a really bad shape..."

-o- -o- -o-

"For the last time Sam, I'm fine! Now would you please finish stitching Cas up?!" Dean yelled in frustration from across the MoL library.

Sam huffed, but complied, returning his attention to Castiel, who was now fully awake, but wincing and grunting in pain as Sam pulled the needle in and out over the numerous cuts on his torso.

Taking a deep, sharp breath, Sam replied, with his eyes still fixed on the wound he was stitching, "Obviously you're not fine, Dean."

As he finished up, gently wiping over the wounds with a clean, damp cloth, Sam offered Cas a glass of water.

"Thank you." he mumbled, looking up with dreary eyes.

Dean coughed, then cleared his throat and suggested, "You need to take it easy Cas, you been through a lot."

"Yeah, so have you." Sam replied before Cas could get a word in.

He turned as Dean began coughing again, and his eyes widened with worry as Dean began spluttering and a little blood appeared on his hand.

"Dean?" he asked, concern filling his voice, "Woah, Dean!"

The weary hunter tried to stand for a moment, waving his brother away, but soon his balance was lost and before he could do anything, he stumbled to the floor.

Dean awoke some time later with a pounding headache and blurry vision. His whole body felt like it had been sent through meat grinder, but the sensation he was most acutely aware of was the damp cloth being pressed against his forehead.

He opened weary eyes, and managed to make out his younger brother sitting over him, and immediately made to shove him away, but Sam resisted.

"Dean, stop." he said with unusual finality. "You need to rest. I did some checking," he explained, glancing over at a book on the bedside table. "You used your blood in that curse and it was a really powerful one. You were blood-bound to it, just like Abaddon, and her work was blasted apart. You're gonna be out of it for a while."

Sighing heavily, exasperated, but secretly relishing the moment of rest, he squinted up at Sam as he mumbled, "Where's Cas?"

"He's in his room. He needs to rest, he's in pretty bad shape. Same as you."

Dean nodded slowly, then propped himself up in his elbows as Sam put the bowel on the side, asked, "Any word from those FBI folks yet?"

Sam remained silent as he shook his head, rubbing his hands together. Then, as he made for the bowel again, wringing out the cloth, Dean nudged his hand away and looked deep into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "I know that Penelope chick was a friend of yours. And I'm really sorry she had to get mixed up in any of this, Sam."

Sam nodded in reply, and there were a few seconds of awkward silence where nobody said anything, until he rose from the chair and mumbled something about needing some fresh air. With that he was gone.

Rubbing his eyes, Sam sat down at the library table, letting out a long, laboured sigh. He wanted more than anything to go to the hospital and see her. It was his fault she'd got messed up in any of this – he never should have gone to see her for those files.

His guilt was only worsened as it coupled with the frustration of not being able to leave. Their faces were plastered on every screen, newspaper and billboard for miles, and the hospital was no doubt crawling with law enforcement.

As he sat there, feeling an imposing emptiness in the room as Dean and Cas lay downstairs in their beds, Sam's mind began to wonder. How were they ever going to get out of this one? What were the FBI going to do this time? Pretend they were dead? Again?

All things considered, they'd got out of this one fairly well off – it could have gone a lot worse. But that didn't do anything to ease the pain of having the image of Penelope with black eyes and a bloody hole in her stomach seared into his mind.

Hours passed. Each minute seemed to drag by, dragging an impossible weight of guilt and anxiety behind it. Sam felt as though an eternity had passed since the battle, since Penelope...

Dean and Castiel eventually emerged from their rooms, both looking if possible, even worse for having rested. The fatigue was showing on Cas' pale face, and the shadows of sunken eyes made Dean look as though he'd aged ten years.

"You look like crap..." Dean greeted Cas, looking him up and down with mild surprise and relief.

"Likewise." Cas replied, returning Dean's gaze for a moment before breaking out into a smile.

Reaching forward, Dean embraced him in a tentative, rather painful hug. "I'm so glad you're okay." he mumbled, closing his eyes for a second as he gave a relieved sigh. "I thought I'd lost you for a minute!"

Sam walked onto the scene as the two friends let go of one another, holding two steaming mugs.

"Coffee?" he offered.

"Fuck yes please!" Dean replied, taking one cup from his brother, and handing the other to Castiel.

Grateful, Cas muttered a thank you before Dean buried his face in the mug, downing the steaming drink almost in one.

Sam watched, smiling, not entirely sure whether to be disgusted or relieved. Then, as his phone started vibrating on the table, his brow furrowed. He stared at the screen – he didn't recognise the number. Hesitant, but desperately curious, he answered it.

"Sam?" a voice came from the other end.

He felt his heart stop in his chest as his throat closed up, and he answered worried, but expectantly, "Emily?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N → Thank you so much for reading this chapter, please leave a review on your way out, I'd love to know what you thought of it. I can't thank you enough for all the overwhelming support I've received for this story. The next chapter will be the last, so hang in there – it's almost over.