Chapter 13 The only way

Right...sorry for leaving you hanging for so long. Had a bit of a hectic time of it lately. Here's the next chapter, though. Only one more to go for this story, but fret not, because I'm actually working at a sequel as we speak. Thank you very much for your reviews and for your patience. Next chapter will be posted around next Thursday.

Small spoiler for Babylon 5's episode Confessions and Lamentation at the end.

I own neither Babylon 5 nor Supernatural.

Enjoy!

Grey sector

Sam froze when he saw the demon. He had somehow hoped they would be able to catch him on an even ground – perhaps that he would even follow them out of Babylon 5 to get to the talisman. He did not expect him to spring on them like that.

"A PPG?" Dean asked disdainfully. "Seriously? Whatever happened to old-fashioned blasting us out of the way?"

"Not while you have the talisman," the demon countered. "Now, consider this a favour. I'm giving you the chance to do what I say willingly. That is, your brother gives me the talisman, or I shoot you. It's set to kill, by the way."

Sam looked down at the talisman.

"How do you know it's the one you want?" he countered.

"Because I apparently know more about it than you ever would," the demon replied. "I know it's the last of many – and I know everything it does."

Dean bit his lips assessing the situation. He could see little hope in his attempting to escape – not unless he wanted to get shot. He knew better than to believe that, if Sam gave the demon what he wanted he would leave them alone. It must have been a demon's dream come true to have the Winchesters at his mercy. The talisman had to feel like just a bonus at that point.

"By the way," the demon went on, "Telling the Minbari to put salt on her doorstep – that was a bit disappointing of you, really. I was thinking of doing Morden a little favour he did not know he needed – poor thing, his own apocalypse is going to go quite badly for him now."

Dean scoffed.

"And you just are such a generous guy that only wants to help," he commented.

"Hardly," the demon commented dryly. "But Morden – or, rather, his associates – and I are thinking about engaging ourselves in a little friendly competition. And I want my competition on an even playing field. Otherwise it would be boring, don't you think?"

"Competition to do what?" Sam inquired. "Be the first to end the world?"

"What can I say?" the demon said innocently. "It gets boring, sometimes."

"Maybe you should take up a hobby or something," Dean suggested helpfully.

"But you won't be able to restart the apocalypse anyway, no matter the destruction you cause with this talisman," Sam pointed out. "Because you need Lucifer and Michael. And they're in the cage and you can't get them out."

The demon's look was now positively feral. Sam had to restrain himself from looking away.

"Can't I, though?" the demon asked. "What do you think that talisman is for, anyway? Among other things, it can open any door. Any door, Sam." He paused and grinned while he saw the look of horrified comprehension on the other's face. "Now you're getting it," he added.

"And you actually think we're going to give it to you?" Dean asked. "After what you just told us? You must be deluded."

"Well, let's hope Sam doesn't think that too," the demon hissed in his ear. "Otherwise it's going to be bad for you, anyway. I hear these PPGs can be quite unpleasant. Wouldn't know, though. Haven't tried one myself before. We prefer the more…classical means of harming someone."

"All right," Sam said quickly. "You've won. You'll get the talisman."

Dean could not believe what he was hearing.

"Sam, have you lost it so completely?" he began.

He stopped, however, when he met Sam's eyes. The demon could not have understood what was there – no one would have been able to interpret that look. But Dean could. He and Sam had, after all, carried many such silent conversations throughout the years. It almost felt as if the two had their own silent language, that only they could decipher.

"All right, man," Dean said instead, playing along. "Have it your own way. Just don't come running to me when Lucifer comes to say hello."

Sam flinched slightly and Dean hated himself from saying that. But he was sure his brother understood the need for being convincing. He was sure Sam himself knew that his plan could work only if he got the demon to lower his guard enough. Otherwise it was going to backfire on them.

"I'll give you the talisman," Sam went on. "But you've got to lower the PPG a little."

As he spoke, he already had the object out of the box. It felt uncomfortably heavy in his hands and for a second Sam wondered if his idea was really going to work. If he did not do it rightly, it could all blow up in their faces – quite literally, too. He advanced, the hand not holding the talisman up in the air to show he was not doing anything threatening.

"At least move the PPG away from Dean," he insisted. "I don't want you shooting my brother out of excitement once I give you this thing."

The demon shifted his weapon reluctantly, but did not move it away completely.

"That's the best you'll get from me," he told Sam soberly. "I ain't stupid, you know. I ain't lowering this thing completely until I have the talisman in my hands."

"Fine," Sam said shrugging. "Have it your way."

It was not exactly ideal, but it would have to do. At least Dean would be able to get quickly out of range if the demon decided to fire. Although, if everything would work as it was supposed to, he might not have time to fire at all.

Sam took another step forward. He grabbed the talisman tighter as if trying to shift its weight. He had to time everything perfectly. He looked at the demon. Then, he turned to look at Dean. The other had not moved since he discovered what Sam wanted to do. It was clear that he was not exactly pleased with the plan. But he was aware it was the only thing they could do under the circumstances.

Sam took a deep breath. He took another step until he was almost level with the demon. He glanced at Dean again, then gave a barely discernible nod.

Everything happened all at once afterwards. Without a warning, Dean ducked down at the same time that Sam aimed the talisman at the demon's head. The other howled in fury, but the howl was cut off abruptly when the object hit him. The talisman shattered into myriads of bright pieces that engulfed the demon and seemed to pass right through him. Then, both him and the object vanished and only a pile of smouldering ash on the ground was left to show they had been there at all.

Dean glanced at Sam, who was standing a few feet away, panting slightly. For an instant there he had thought the destruction of the talisman would take him along with its target.

"Neat trick," Dean commented.

Sam huffed.

"I busted the talisman," he reminded Dean. "Cas is going to be pissed at me."

Dean waved that aside.

"I'll deal with Cas," he told Sam. "It's not like you had much of a choice. Now let's get out of here before the head of security finds out somehow we've been playing toss the dangerous cursed object with a demon in the Grey Sector."

Docking bay

Sam and Dean managed to get out of Grey Sector unnoticed. They wasted no time after that. They got all their belongings from their room and headed straight for the Docking Bay. With luck, no one was going to prevent them from leaving. Actually, they were both convinced that, as far as Captain Sheridan was concerned, he would rather have them off the station than inside it anyway.

As they were heading for their ship, they ran into ambassador Delenn. Quite likely she had been waiting for them to see how their meeting with the Vendor had gone.

"Ambassador," Dean greeted cautiously. "I've gotta say we might have misused your money. That talisman…well, it's kinda in pieces now, sorry to say."

Delenn raised her eyebrows.

"But it cannot affect this station anymore, can it?" she wanted to know.

"It can't affect anything anymore," Sam said slightly ruefully.

"Well, then as far as I am concerned, you did all I wanted you to do," Delenn pointed out. "After all, when you came to me for help you did say that it was my best interest for the talisman to be away from the station. And now it's gone. Therefore, things are much easier for me."

"Well, things suck for us," Dean grumbled. "We needed that thing."

"I am not going to ask why," Delenn said. "It is not my place and I do not think I would even understand – or believe in it the way you do. However, maybe I should point something out to you. Your enemies were also looking for the talisman. Perhaps you should be glad you made sure they too can never have it."

Sam shivered, remembering what the demon had been planning to do with the weapon.

"You've got no idea," he said earnestly.

Dean cast him a concerned look, then shook his head.

"Well, that's done," he said briskly. "Ambassador, no offence meant, but I think it's best if we both hoped we'll never see each other again."

"Actually, I found your company fascinating, Mr Winchester," Delenn confessed. "As I told you on our first meeting. Perhaps it would be better if we hoped to meet each other under better circumstances, instead."

Dean scoffed.

"Trust me, Ambassador, there aren't any better circumstances with us," he told her darkly. "You care about this place you'd better wish we won't come back to it again. Have a talk with your Markab buddy, if you don't believe us. In many ways, he was right."

Delenn said nothing. She did not look too convinced by Dean's fatalistic outlook, though.

"Good luck, then," she said.

Sam nodded to that.

"Same to you, Ambassador," he said. "And thanks."

Chief of Security's office

"Chief, do you have a minute?"

Garibaldi turned to look at Zack, fully aware that was exactly how the conversation started a few days ago when Zack had come to report about a mysterious death in Downbelow.

"What now?" he asked warily.

Zack bit his lips. He looked just as uncomfortable as the first time.

"We picked up something…strange in the Grey Sector."

"Everything is strange here, Zack," Garibaldi pointed out. "Care to be more specific?"

"There was something there that looked suspiciously like a pile of ash, Chief," Zack said quickly as if he wanted to tell the news as quickly as possible. "I say this is a whole new level of strange, even for us."

Garibaldi raised his eyebrows.

"Somebody fixing marshmallows back there without telling me?"

"Not unless they fancy them with a side of sulphur," Zack quipped. "That was the only component we could detect. Otherwise there were traces of something we could not recognize. We could send the ash for further analysis on Earth, but…"

"Let's put that on hold for now," Garibaldi said. "No use alerting the folks back home with a few isolated incidents. I'll check in with the Captain just in case, though."

Zack nodded and left. Garibaldi shook his head. He had just received word that the small personal ship Impala – belonging to the two Winchesters – had just been cleared to leave. Delenn had told him and Sheridan that all incidents would most likely stop once the two left. Garibaldi supposed he would just have to trust her instincts this time. It irked him, though, that he did not have all the pieces to the puzzle. He did not like having mysteries on his watch.

Captain Sheridan's office

Sheridan was in his office in the middle of some rather irritating paperwork – but, then again, when was paperwork not irritating? – when Delenn came to see him.

"Captain," she greeted. "I hope this is not a bad time."

"Oh hell no," Sheridan muttered quickly before he could stop himself then, realising he was sounding a bit too enthusiastic, assumed a more professional posture. "That is, come right in, Ambassador. It's good to see you. I've hear your…erm…your two protégés left this morning."

"They did," Delenn agreed. "That is one of the things I was coming to talk to you about. I am fairly confident that things will get back to normal now. Everything seems to be solved."

Normal was a relative term on Babylon 5. Sheridan himself, did not consider much of what happened on the station as normal. But he supposed that there were types of abnormal that he could deal with – and types that were better left to those more qualified. He was glad that there was no more of the second type, if Delenn was to be believed.

There was something else that was bothering Sheridan. Delenn would not have taken such an interest in two Earthers without a good reason. It told Sheridan that she most likely knew much more about the two than he himself did. And he could not help being curious about what she knew – and how she had found out in the first place.

"I was thinking," he began, "You're clearly more aware of the whole business than I am. Who are these two really? I'm curious."

Delenn stood for a while deep in thought. It was not that she did not trust Sheridan – she knew he would always make the right call. Still there was some knowledge that was best not shared yet.

"I do not know as much as you think I do," she said at length. "So I cannot tell much about it, yet."

"Yet?" Sheridan inquired hopefully. "You mean you will tell me, eventually?"

Delenn inclined her head.

"One day," she decided. "One day I will tell you a story about two people fighting the darkness together, taking everything that the darkness had to throw at them because they were not alone in this fight – they would stand as long as they had each other."

Delenn paused. She had no idea when she had started speaking more of something else than of Sam and Dean Winchester. By the slightly hopeful, slightly baffled look in Sheridan's eyes, he too had realised there was more to her words.

"And?" Sheridan prompted quickly, when he saw that Delenn had paused. "What about this story? Does it end well?"

Delenn smiled, shaking her head.

"I suppose we shall have to wait and see, won't we, Captain?" she pointed out. "Now, I seem to recall promising to make up to you for any inconvenience this business might cause you. I hope you will do me the honour of having dinner with me in my quarters tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," Sheridan answered, grinning broadly.

Delenn bowed her head.

Until then, Captain," she said, then turned to leave.

Sheridan was left wondering whether dinner would be an appropriate enough occasion to ask Delenn to start calling him by his first name.