The sun was rising as the group made their way into the TARDIS; Sam, Dean, and Charlie were armed to the T in guns, ammo, knives, and other weapons. Even John was sticking a gun in the small of his back, and he was fairly sure Sherlock had one stowed in his coat pocket. The Doctor was quiet and sullen, his face lined with worry as he entered the coordinates to the given address. Castiel stood guard over Crowley, whose hands were cuffed in front of him with silver cuffs etched with devils traps. Neither the angel nor the demon said a word.

The others had stayed behind, protecting the base.

"How long has it been?" the Doctor demanded.

Sam looked at his watch and swallowed. "Seven hours."

The Doctor paled, looking quite sick as he parked the TARDIS. "We're here," he said shakily.

Sam opened the door, leading the way out. Castiel escorted Crowley between Charlie and Dean. Sherlock and John brought up the rear, keeping their eyes open.

"I'm surprised." Abaddon appeared behind them, flanked by four demons. "You made good time."

"Where is she?" the Doctor demanded.

Abaddon laughed. "What is this, the boyscouts?" she asked, examining the ragtag groups. Her eyes landed on Sherlock. "And you . . ." she looked him up and down. "We've been waiting for you."

"He's here," Sherlock said stiffly, and John frowned.

"What?"

Sherlock pulled his gun. "Where is he?" he demanded, not aiming it; he knew it would be useless on Abaddon or her demons.

She smiled. "What are you going to do with that, sugar? Putting a bullet through his head will put him down, but not for long."

"It'll make me feel better," Sherlock retorted.

Abaddon returned her attention to Sam. "This is an even trade," she said. "You call of your guard dogs, I'll call off mine."

Sam clenched his jaw. "Guys, go wait in the TARDIS."

"Sam –" Dean started.

"Now!" Sam snapped, and the group backed away, heading for the ship.

Castiel handed Crowley over to Sam, giving him a nod. Crowley glared at Sam, then at Abaddon. Abaddon snapped her fingers and her demons disappeared. Sam shoved Crowley forward, and Crowley looked down, realizing he was in devils trap that had been prepared for him by Abaddon.

The demon smirked at Crowley. "Stay here, sweetness," she smirked. She nodded at the barn behind Sam. "Your girlfriends in there, alive, as promised."

Sam leveled the gun at her heart. "You're not going anywhere until I see her."

Abaddon smirked. "Oh, aren't I?"

In the blink of an eye, her and Crowley had disappeared.

Sam ran towards the barn, kicking the lock on it until it broke. He shoved the door open and ran to Clara, who was slouched forward and seemingly unconscious. He lifted her face in his hands, looking at her. "Clara? Clara, hey. Look at me. Please, god, look at me."

She gasped, her eyes opening. "Sam."

"Hey," Sam said, pure relief in his voice as he smiled reassuringly at her. "Hold on while I get you outta here."

Clara smirked weakly. "This is just like our first date," she said, referring to when she rescued Sam.

Sam laughed in relief, untying her and gently lifting her into his arms. She winced, and it made Sam want to cry for her.

She laid her head against him as he made his way to the TARDIS, the door opening for him as the Doctor rushed them inside. Sam sat, holding her in his lap, feeling like he was holding a broken doll. "I'm so sorry, Clara," he told her softly.

Clara shook her head. "Shut up and kiss me, you silly oaf," she told him.

Sam smiled at her and pulled her towards him, laying his lips on hers gently and desperately repeating to himself, she's safe, she's here and she's safe.

"Oi!" the Doctor had just turned around, looking shocked. "Wha – what?"

Clara laughed weakly, but as she turned to look at him, she hit her back against Sams arm. She squeaked in pain, a sob racking her body.

"Clara?" Sam exclaimed. "What is it? Clara?!"

"Shoulders," she squeaked, and Sam sat her up gently, pulling down the back of her shirt.

Sherlock shoved past the others, looking down at the marks on her skin.

"They burned you?" The Doctor exclaimed furiously, the raised, bloody welts sending a surge of pure fury through him.

"He did," Clara coughed, trying to recover.

"He?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, his face dark. "He."

John frowned and looked over his friends shoulder at the girls back, feeling a pang of sorrow for the poor girl.

"Branding iron," Sherlock muttered, standing, his eyes stony. "It's a message to me."

"What does it say?" Dean demanded.

Sherlock looked him dead in the eyes. "I O U."

Abaddon paced in front of Crowley, savoring the moment. "Uncuff him," she commanded. "I want to watch him beg for his life, groveling on his hands and knees."

He was uncuffed by one of her demons, and the King of Hell glared up at Abaddon.

"Do you see this, Crowley?" Abaddon demanded, stepping back and twirling an angel blade in her hand. "This is me winning! This is what it looks like to lose everything. How does it feel?"

Crowley said nothing, but sighed deeply.

"You're unusually quiet," Abaddon acknowledged. "Are you that petty, Crowley? You won't even talk to me?" She laughed, bringing the blade sharply across his shoulder. He hissed, but stayed silent.

"That's alright," Abaddon said, wiping the blade on her shirt. "You'll be begging soon enough. So." She leaned in front of him, smirking. "Anything you wanna say before we start?"

"Yes," he said, only his voice wasn't his own; it was still British, but definitely female, and amused at that. "Hello, sweetie."

Crowley shifted with the click of a button on his watch, and was suddenly a slender woman with a mountain of blonde curls. Before anyone could react, the cuffs were off and she drew two angel blades, one from each boot, and impaled the demons behind her. She swiftly knocked Abaddons feet out from under her, and stood with her heel on the demons neck and the angel blade poised directly against her heart.

"Go ahead," Abaddon laughed. "It won't kill me!"

"No," River agreed. "But it will certainly hurt like the devil." She plunged the blade into her heart. "No pun intended." She stood, giving a little wave. "This was fun. We should do it again sometime." She hit a button on her vortex manipulator, and disappeared.

The moment she appeared back in the bunker, everyone was relieved.

"Why are you covered in blood?" the Doctor asked, exasperated. "You weren't supposed to engage!"

"Couldn't resist, sweetie," she said, kissing his cheek. "Is Clara alright?"

"She will be," the Doctor said, his face relieved. "She's resting."

"Good, she's going to need it," River said, looking very serious all of the sudden. "Because our situation has gotten ten times worse."

"What?" her husband demanded. "How?"

"Abaddon wasn't alone," River said. "There was someone there, posing as a demon. And I got this off of him when I attacked him."

She pressed something into the Doctor's palm, and he frowned, looking at it. His eyes widened.

"Doc, everything alright?" Dean called, coming in from the other room.

"No, Dean," the Doctor said. "Things just got much worse." He clutched the ring in his hand, turning to look at the young hunter. "What records have you got on the man who calls himself the Master?"