"What do you think?"
Bobby stared at Sam, his expression giving nothing away.
"Ellen's gonna kill me." He said at last. "But...I think if anyone can do it...it'd be you."
Sam nodded, heaving a great sigh.
"It's just...I can't let her get hurt. Not because of me. I started this. I should at least finish it, right?"
The older hunter grunted, pushing himself across the floor.
"How're you gonna tell Dean?"
"I'm not?" Sam offered, shrugging.
"Don't be an idgit." Bobby snapped. "You've gotta tell him. He'll go insane. You remember when he was dead, don't cha? What happened to you?"
Sam flushed an ugly red colour.
"Yeah, but Dean's got something I don't."
"He don't know it though." Bobby sighed. "You gotta tell him, kid. He won't take it well."
Sam sighed.
"Fine. But you're telling Ellen."
Bobby made a rude gesture and Sam smirked before heading off to find his brother.
"Hey, Mione, can I talk to you outside for a sec?" Sam had guessed that telling Hermione would be easier than telling Dean, and he wanted someone on his side when his brother flew off the handle.
Hermione glanced over the top of her book and smiled.
"Mmm, no."
Sam frowned, stepping into the room.
"Why not?"
Hermione was sitting against the headboard of her bed, Dean curled up asleep by her side. At some point the hunter had rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, cushioning his head on her stomach.
She blushed, waving one hand at her lap.
"I'm a bit...stuck."
Sam pushed away from the door frame and stood over her, grinning.
"Yeah, he's not letting go any time soon." He declared with the authority of someone who'd dealt with Dean for twenty seven years.
"I'd guessed." She said dryly. "Did you want something or..."
"It doesn't matter right now." Sam said and pretended he didn't see Dean wink at him when he paused in the doorway and looked back.
Hermione portkeyed everyone back from the Hospital. Castiel was in no condition to fly; going up against Pestilence had taken up what was left of his grace. It had been a sheer miracle that the angel had turned up in time. The hunters had, somewhat embarrassingly, walked straight into a trap they should have seen coming from a mile away. Pestilence had known they were coming, had had the entire hospital rigged up for their arrival. Hermione could still feel the tail end of his power clinging too her. The Horseman had them coughing up blood on the floor before they'd gotten anywhere close to him. Luckily he'd spent enough time monologuing for Castiel to stumble in and take a knife to the ancient entity's hand.
The angel was virtually unconscious, so Hermione and Ellen dragged him upstairs and, ignoring the mumbled Enochian protests, tucked him into one of the spare beds. Dean's bellow interrupted the quiet stillness and both women sighed before heading for the door.
"What do you mean, "'Jump in the cage"?"
The argument had been going on for two hours and showed no signs of stopping soon. Sam and Bobby stood, or sat, on one side of the room as Ellen and Dean shouted themselves hoarse. Hermione sat behind Bobby's desk, watching everything and saying nothing.
"Are you insane!" Dean yelled, for probably the seventh time. "How can you even think about doing something so..."
His phone rang and Dean floundered for a moment.
"You gonna answer that?" Sam asked, evidently sensing a way out.
Dean glared at him.
"This ain't over. What!" He snapped down the phone line. Dean frowned when Hermione spoke, holding her own mobile to her ear.
"Hi," She scowled over the desk. "This is Hermione. I'm just calling to ask if you're a bloody moron or if you've truly forgotten that not only do we know Death's location but we have to get there before he murders all of Chicago?"
Dean hung up and stomped over to her.
"I ain't forgotten." He growled, eyeing her dangerously. Hermione stared back evenly but Sam could hear the faintest rattle of the ornaments on the shelf behind her. "Are you going to say something about this?"
"Like what?"
Dean waved a hand expressively in Sam's direction.
"His dumb ass plan. He'll get himself killed!"
Hermione examined her nails, apparently rather bored.
"Don't worry." She told him coolly. "I'm sure someone will step in at the right time. But if we could get back to the matter at hand, I believe we have a Horseman to catch."
Ellen's eyes narrowed and she glared at the younger woman who'd become more of a surrogate daughter than a fellow hunter. Hermione cut across her though, before she could raise her question.
"Where did you get this information again?" She demanded of Bobby. "I've been looking for weeks and turned up nought."
The oldest hunter flushed, looking rather sheepish.
"I...uh had some help."
"Oh, don't be so modest."
All at once no less than six weapons were drawn. The Winchester's never went unarmed these days.
Crowley lounged against the wall, surveying the room with a pleased smile.
"Don't attack on my account." He drawled.
"What's he talkin' about?" Ellen demanded, turning to face Bobby.
Bobby shifted, uncomfortable under the woman's glower.
"World's endin' anyway." He mumbled as Ellen's eyes began to narrow. "Seem's silly to get worked up over one little soul."
For a second there was silence and then several items shattered, Sam and Dean lowered their guns to yell at Bobby and Ellen slapped him. Hard.
"Did ya forget some idiot selling his soul is what got us into this mess in the first place?" She hissed as Bobby stared up at her in shock. Hermione got to her feet, rubbing one hand across Dean's shoulder in consolation as she passed him.
"The world's ending, woman!" Bobby seemed to gather his momentum and glared straight back. "What I'm supposed to do nothing to help? I'm broken, Ellen. I ain't gonna be no good in the end of days!"
Ellen just stared down at him, lips curled in a silent snarl.
"You sold your soul?" Sam repeated, dumbfounded.
"More like pawned it." Crowley broke in, dragging their attention back to him like an eager showman. "I fully intend to give it back."
"Do you now?" Hermione hissed, advancing on him. "Then give it back!"
"I will!" Crowley held up his hand. "I swear.
"Now!" Dean demanded.
"Did you kiss him?" Sam blurted, apparently still five minutes behind the rest of conversation.
Hermione blinked and then sighed.
"Shut up, Sam." She ordered.
"Just wondering." He defended, looking boyishly innocent.
"Did you?" Ellen demanded.
"NO!" Bobby yelled, scandalised.
Crowley held up a touch screen phone and Hermione tilted her head to squint at the picture.
"Is that...?" Dean managed, also squinting.
They all turned back to Bobby, who'd gone rather pink and was avoiding Ellen's gaze.
"Why'd you take a picture?" He hissed.
Crowley shrugged, pocketing his phone.
"Why'd you use tongue?"
"I think I just threw up." Sam muttered, looking disgusted.
"More to the point," Hermione swallowed, looking equally nauseous. "Why won't you give him back his soul right now?"
"You lot are rather trigger happy when it comes to demons. Not you of course, Miss Granger. I heard you prefer rather lighter cannon fodder." Hermione baulked, one hand clenching reflexively around Simiel. "It's insurance. When this is all over, I'll return it."
"You son of a bitch." Ellen spat, advancing on the demon. "You're just using him to save your own skin!"
Crowley coughed, hiding a smirk poorly.
"Why is it the women of this family are so much more intelligent?" He asked rhetorically. "I'll leave you to argue for a bit." He vanished, leaving them staring at each other.
Ellen had dragged Hermione into the kitchen under the pretence of grabbing some food. And it was dragged because Hermione wasn't fooled for a second by Ellen's saccharine smile.
"You wanna tell me what that little comment of yours was about?" The huntress hissed.
Hermione glared mutinously at the floor.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She lied.
"Girl, I ain't those idiot boys out there. You tell me what's going on, right now!"
The witch sighed heavily.
"Someone's got to take the fall, Ellen." She murmured.
"Yeah, and it ain't gonna be you!" Hermione made to turn away but the older woman grabbed at her arm, pulling her around to face her. "No. You listen to me. I ain't losing my other daughter too. Not to this damn Apocalypse."
Hermione's eyes filled with unshed tears and Ellen sighed, hugging her.
"We'll fix this." She promised. Hermione didn't have the heart to correct her.
"Niveus Industries?" Crowley barked, holding up a newspaper. "Ringing any bells?"
Hermione frowned and summoned the paper, causing at least two people to flinch.
"That was Brady's company, wasn't it?" She murmured, scanning the print.
Crowley grinned.
"Top of the class, Miss Granger."
"I will stab you." Hermione added in a quiet under tone as she passed the paper to Dean.
"Country wide shipment of vaccine...?" Dean frowned. "What does this have to do with us?"
"Pestlience!" Sam realised, reading over Dean's shoulder. "He was spreading swine flu, remember?"
"And this is some kinda antidote?" Bobby scowled. "What kinda idgit would fall for that?"
Hermione muttered something that sounded like, "...America...obviously..." under her breath, which caused Dean to reach out and tug on her braid in retaliation.
"People are panicking." Sam grimaced. "They're willing to try anything. I'm guessing this isn't a cure?"
"You remember our old friend the Croatoan virus?" Crowley smirked. "I'd stake my soul that that's what's in there. Ready to ship out across the nation."
"You don't have a soul." Dean grumbled. "Okay, new plan. I'll go with Crowley to find Death. Sam, 'Mione and Cas, you go with Ellen. Deal with this."
Castiel, who'd been standing in a patch of shade in Bobby's yard, sulking, sighed.
"I won't be of any help." He muttered.
Everyone ignored him.
The cars were packed, Ellen, Sam and Cas, were taking the truck out to Niveus, packed with enough explosives to give the CIA a heart attack. Dean and Crowley were taking the Impala to Chicago.
"Here..." Sam held out Ruby's knife, hilt first. "Take this. You'll need it."
Crowley, seeking a chance to cause mischief, appeared next to them, holding out a small scythe.
"Take this instead."
"What is it?" Dean asked doubtfully.
"Death's own weapon." The demon grinned. "Only thing that will work against him."
Dean rolled his eyes, but accepted the weapon anyway.
"You take care," He ordered his brother. "You hear me?"
Sam sighed.
"I'll be fine, Dean."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Sammy. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean snapped, staring behind Sam. There was the distinctive sound of the Impala's trunk closing before Hermione strolled over.
"Going with you." She told him calmly.
"No way!" Dean protested.
Hermione folded her arms.
"Do you really think I'm going to let you go up against Death with only the demon as back up?"
In the background, Crowley spluttered. Dean just sighed.
"Sam needs you."
"No, he doesn't."
"He really doesn't." Sam interjected. "I'm twenty-seven. I can blow up a warehouse on my own."
"Shut up, Sam." They both snapped. Sam groaned.
"I'll just follow you." She threatened.
Dean clenched his teeth.
"Fine. But Sam's a man down."
Crowley coughed.
"Speaking of which, are you just going to sit there like a lazy arse, Singer?"
Bobby glowered at the demon from his wheelchair.
"Very funny." He snapped.
Crowley sighed.
"You know you really should have been more specific about your contract. Left it a bit open-ended. I took the liberty of adding an extra clause."
Hermione gaped at the demon before flicking a diagnostic charm at Bobby. Whatever the spell told her, it was good news because she beamed.
"Well, who knew?" She murmured. "Up you get, Bobby."
They all stared at the hunter, who stared straight back.
"This ain't funny." Bobby grumbled.
Ellen, rolling her eyes, reached across and yanked Bobby up out of his chair. The wheelchair went scooting backwards and Bobby stumbled as his legs found purchase beneath him. For a second nobody moved and then his knees straightened and for the first time in months, Bobby Singer stood to his full height.
"You're welcome!" Crowley beamed, breaking the reverent silence. Ellen, never one for sentimentalism, punched Bobby in the shoulder.
"Ow!"
"Idgit." Ellen grumbled, adding another bag to the back of the truck, but smiling none the less.
"Thanks?" Bobby offered the demon, who waved the gratitude aside.
"This is heartwarming. Really. But we have to be going..." He made for the front passenger seat, only to have Dean catch his shoulder.
"She gets shotgun." He ordered as Hermione slipped passed them and into the front seat. "You can go in the back."
Crowley scowled.
"Honestly. Perform a minor miracle and what do you get to show for it?"
"An eternity in hell?" Dean offered, darkly.
"The UST in this car is unbearable." Crowley complained after an hour of driving.
Dean's ears went slightly pink, although Hermione just looked confused.
"Remind me to get you and Cas' to watch cable, sometime." Dean murmured, smiling at her.
Crowley mumbled something that sounded like, "utterly besotted." from the back seat which luckily Hermione missed.
"You want an angel of the Lord to watch bad TV?" Hermione grinned. "You're a bad influence, Winchester."
"Hey! I resent that." Dean smirked.
"No, you don't." Hermione assured him, cheerfully.
Crowley groaned loudly.
"That accent." Hermione asked suddenly. "Is it yours or the meatsuits?"
Crowley eyed her with something akin to approval.
"My own. And yours, Miss Granger?"
"London." She flushed slightly. "A bit south of you, I suppose."
Crowley laughed.
"Ah. It's nice to have someone with some sense of...originality to talk to, you know? These Yanks are so uncivilized."
Hermione's lips twitched slightly.
"I couldn't say." She murmured, diplomatically.
"Mm. Of course, it was different in my day."
"Where about in Scotland?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Only I went to school there."
"Did you now?"
"Mm."
"Privately, I take it?"
Hermione smiled slightly, ignoring Dean's confused glances.
"You could say so, yes."
"Tiny village, Dufftown. Probably long since gone now, what with the Clearances and all."
"I know of it," Hermione murmured. "Still going strong today, I believe. Up near Elgin, isn't it?"
"That's the one."
Dean spent the next two hours listening to the most bizarre conversation he'd ever heard as Hermione and the King of the Crossroad's exchanged stories about living in some place Dean had never heard of and by the sounds of things never wanted to. Who the hell would live in a place where there were hoards of tiny flying vampires?
Ellen had vanished into the gas station to grab some supplies giving Sam the perfect opportunity to outline his plan to Castiel. The angel listened, his face giving nothing away before he nodded.
"It is possible," He said at last. "But there would be repercussions."
"I know I'd be stuck." Sam started but the angel shook his head.
"That is not what I was referring to. In order to make your body able to even host Lucifer, there would be necessary...preparations."
"Like..."
"Demon blood." Castiel told him bluntly. Both Sam and Bobby flinched. "Gallons."
"Why?"
"To keep you from exploding. Lucifer's current vessel is consuming vast quantities just to contain him and even that is not enough to stop the grace wearing through."
Sam frowned.
"But what about you and Jimmy?"
A self depreciating smile crossed his face.
"I am far less powerful than an Archangel, even when I still had my...mojo, as you put it. The sheer power of an Archangel is not supposed to be contained in a vessel for so long..." He shuddered. "I can only imagine what Michael is doing to force Adam's body to contain him."
"Adam?" Sam leaned forward. "My brother Adam?"
"You did realise he was being used as Michael's vessel.
Bobby grimaced.
"We were tryin' to think positively."
Castiel shook his head.
"Sam, you understand that if you fail...the results would be catastrophic."
The Winchester sighed, watching Ellen stride towards them across the tarmac.
"I've got to try, don't I?"
"This is the place?" Dean asked doubtfully.
Crowley glanced around, staring at something they couldn't see.
"This is where the reapers are. Hundreds of them. Bloody weirdos." He frowned. "I'll just go check that we're in the right place."
He vanished.
"What the hell was that all about?" Dean demanded.
Hermione chuckled.
"Testing out a theory. Something Bobby mentioned to me once. Thought it might be worth a try."
Dean frowned.
"Did you really go to school in Scotland?"
"Yep. Remind me to show you a picture sometime." She murmured, checking the magazine on her handgun. Dean snorted.
"I remember when you couldn't even handle that thing." He mused.
She reassembled the gun with quick practised moments.
"It's amazing what a bookworm can pick up." She frowned. "Something's wrong."
"Deaths not in there," Crowley announced, appearing in the back seat.
"What!"
The demon shrugged.
"I'm as surprised as you. All the reapers are just staring there but...no Death. Pity. Enjoy the slaughter." He vanished.
Dean and Hermione gaped at each other.
"What now?" Hermione asked, looking utterly bewildered for once. "If Chicago's due to be levelled by storms in twenty minutes..."
"We try and evacuate thousands of people in ten minutes?" Dean suggested looking at his watch.
"We need to get out of here."
"'Mione...!"
Hermione grabbed his arm.
"We need to leave! Now, Dean!"
They were passing through the centre of town when Crowley dropped in again.
"I found him," he announced as Dean jerked the car to a stop, one wheel clipping the sidewalk. He pointed across the road to a nondescript restaurant. "In there."
"Death's eating Italian?" Hermione asked doubtfully.
"Maybe he's eating Italians?" Dean suggested as they stepped out of the car. "You ready for this?"
Hermione snorted.
"No," She muttered, palming her wand. "Are you coming, Crowley?"
The demon didn't answer and Hermione didn't need to turn around to know he was long gone.
"You don't need to come." Dean murmured as they crossed the roads. The wind that was normal to Chicago picked up as the bad weather moved in, whipping Hermione's hair across her face, almost hiding her smile.
"If I can face Lucifer with you I can face Death." Her lips twitched. "Besides, we're old friends."
Dean didn't have time to question that because they reached the restaurant doors. They slipped inside silently and almost tripped over the corpse lying across the floor. Judging by the uniform she'd been a waitress. A pen rested several feet from her outstretched hand. The hunters exchanged a grimace, stepping over the body. The restaurant was busy...or it had been. The macabre visual featured men and women slumped into their food, their bodies the slight grey of the recently deceased. Only one person was moving.
From behind Death appeared to be a tall man of advancing age, with a bony quality to him which caused his suit to hang rather than fit. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand when she noticed her hands were shaking.
Death didn't have a presence. If she'd been forced to survey the power, she would have had better luck trying to sense Dean. It was the fact that the Horseman exuded nothing, not one single radiation of power or even life, that really scared her.
A loud clanging drew her away from her thoughts and Hermione stared at Dean who looked in horror at the scythe he'd apparently just dropped.
"Dean?" Hermione hissed, before everything went black and the floor rushed up to meet her.
"Hermione!" Dean yelled, lunging for her.
"She's all right."
Dean froze, two steps away from her.
"I could smell my sister on her from a mile away. I can not be bothered with the drama of killing her...prematurely. Sit down Mr Winchester."
Dean waited until he saw Hermione's chest rise before he obeyed, walking slowly over to the occupied table.
"Sit." Death encouraged, cutting his slice of pizza into small slices. Dry mouthed, Dean did as he was told, sitting nervously in the spare chair. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Can't say I'm thrilled about that," Dean whispered.
Death chewed quietly and watched him.
"Uh...I'm sorry, you said you have a sister?" Visions on a fifth horsemen ripped through Dean's mind.
"We all have our opposites," Death said, cryptically. "You're remarkably slow on the uptake...No, you may not speak." Dean's mouth snapped shut. "Honestly I haven't had this much trouble with a human since your mate," He spat the word. "went along with Mr Potter's insane plan." Death sighed and Dean told himself that he was just imagining that the exhale of air sounded like the rattle of bones.
"What did he do?" Dean asked in a rush.
"He sought to master Death. In the end he was unsuccessful. However, Lucifer was not."
Something clicked and Dean's mouth opened in a silent "o".
"Lucifer's got you on a chain," He realised. "So you want me to set you free?" His laughter died in his throat as Death glared at him.
"No. There is nothing a mere human could do to help me. But you can take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun. He has me destroying hundreds like some common demon." Death's lip curled. "It's pathetic. But I understand you want this?" He held up one slim, bony hand and Dean stared at the black ring adorning his fourth finger.
The hunter's mouth dried and he nodded soundlessly.
"I am inclined to give it to you."
"What?"
"If you let what has to happen, happen." Death's gaze bored into Dean's eyes, giving the same stare as Castiel when Dean suspected he was looking at his soul. "Lucifer has to be returned to the cage, no matter the cost."
"That's the plan," The hunter assured him.
Death frowned.
"No. It wasn't. There has been a lot of meddling going on recently. I dislike meddling." Dean flinched. "No, you are going to let your brother take that dive into the fiery pit. He's the one to stop Lucifer. So, do I have your word?"
Dean's breath caught in his throat and, unbidden, his thought turned to the witch lying collapsed on the floor, to the secrets she was keeping from him, to the millions who depended up him to get this right.
"Yeah. You've got my word." He rasped and Death smiled.
"Very well. Would you like to know how it works?"
The wind had died as Dean carried Hermione out of the diner. She was just starting to wake up and Dean paused on the pavement to lower her to her feet, one arm wrapped around her as they crossed the road.
Two figures watched them go, standing like shadows in the window.
"I'm backing Sam." One said.
There was a soft snort.
"Of course you are. You always were so rigid, brother." The other replied.
"Where as you seek to meddle in everything." The first retorted. "I assume you believe in the girl?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"They're human."
"That's the point." The second being sniffed. "Besides she is more than that."
"So is he."
"No matter who makes the fall...something must be done about Dean. He will be broken."
"He's human. It happens."
"The prophecy..."
"Doesn't relate to this and you know it." The being drew in a deep breath. "His heart will break but he'll let the pieces fall for he is a dead man with nothing to live for."
Hermione and Dean had pulled over at the side of the road, halfway between Chicago and Sioux Falls. They were sitting on the bonnet of the Impala enjoying the last rays of sunshine.
"So he said you have to let Sam do it?" Hermione murmured, staring at the horizon.
Dean turned Death's ring about in his fingers, noting how the metal never warmed up, no matter how it was handled.
"Yeah."
"You're okay with that?"
He glanced up from the ring, taking in her profile as she gazed off into the distance.
"No." Her lips twitched. "But...if I can't do this for him, I'll sure as hell give him the best damn rescue you've ever seen." This time she smiled fully and leaned back against the windscreen.
"You never give up do you? Never stop fighting." The setting sun bathed them in red light that Hermione thought was all too appropriate.
Dean shrugged.
"He's my brother, 'Mione. I don't know what I'd do without him. I don't want to know what I'd do without him. I'm...trash mostly. Sam's the good one."
"Don't say that." She rebuked softly.
"He is," Dean insisted.
Hermione scoffed quietly.
"He said the same thing about you, you know?" She reached out, pulling one of his hands away from the ring and lacing their fingers together. Dean stared at their joined hands, unaware of the grim look on her face. Hermione, so used to the casual touching between the brothers and herself, wasn't even aware she'd done anything noteworthy.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"When I...If something happens to me, will you do something for me?"
Dean moved away from her, unwilling to let her hand go but also unwilling to listen to her any more.
"I ain't listening to this." He warned.
"Dean...please." Hermione begged, turning to face him.
"No. You ain't getting hurt. Got it?" He glared at her ferociously. "I am not losing you too."
Brown eyes met green and Hermione shuddered. She couldn't bring herself to add to the grief that was already there.
"Fine." She whispered, letting him go.
"Where are the kids?" Ellen asked quietly as Bobby came down the stairs for the third time that night.
"Sam's upstairs asleep, Dean's tinkering in the yard. Thinks he found something wrong with that car of his."
"He's nervous." She murmured, as Bobby settled next to her on the sofa. "He's having a hard time getting his head around the idea of letting hisbrother jump in the cage."
Bobby rolled his eyes.
"At least he's on board." He muttered darkly.
"Hermione?" Ellen wondered, ignoring his last comment.
"She got a call from some hunter back in England.
"Cas?"
"Ellen, you can't adopt an Angel of the Lord." Ellen gave him a look that said she was going to damn well try and Bobby sighed. "Last time I saw him, he was readin' some book 'Mione gave 'im and looking morose."
"You know she's plannin' somethin' don't you?" Ellen said suddenly.
"I ain't dumb if that's what you're asking."
"You sold your soul!" She snapped.
"I pawned it and yes I know. Whatever it is she's keepin' quiet about it and I ain't gonna bring it up with a woman who could level my house if she wanted. Besides, the boys told me what happened the last time they brought it up."
"What?"
"She threatened to walk."
"Empty threat." Ellen mused, tucking her hair back behind her ear.
"You reckon?"
"Yeah, I reckon." She snapped. "She loves those boys too much to leave them to their own devices. They'd probably kill themselves anyway."
"At least Dean's got taste." Bobby mused, looking at her thoughtfully. Ellen didn't seem to notice.
"Jo didn't stand a chance." She replied softly. It was a credit to Ellen that she could now say her daughters name. Life had been tough for Ellen Harvelle, but Ellen was tougher. "Not really. She had a silly crush, but I figure Dean's in for the long haul."
Bobby snorted in agreement.
"Ain't many who'd make a living outta this." He replied. "You gotta be tough, smart, resourceful..." He flushed. "She reminds me of you."
This got her attention and flinty brown eyes stared at him across the ancient sofa.
"You're a good woman...hell if you're not the best I know and..."
"You going somewhere with this, or am I just supposed to sit here and be flattered?" Ellen broke in bluntly.
Bobby threw up his hands.
"Oh for crying out loud!" he snapped, before leaning in and kissing her roughly.
He pulled back thirty seconds later, eyes slightly unfocused.
"Not that I'm complaining..." Ellen teased, looking unusually happy. "But why now?"
"Worlds gonna end," Bobby mumbled, looking rather pink. "Might as well."
She rolled her eyes.
"No, why not earlier? I've been living with you for months, Singer."
Bobby winced.
"Kinda figured you wouldn't want a man who couldn't walk up a flight of damn stairs."
Ellen scowled, glaring at him.
"You idgit!" She snapped.
The vampire was fast, but all vampires were. One of the muggle hunters in England that she'd come across had tipped her off, the muggle murders having not yet reached the Ministry of Magic's radar. Wiltshire wasn't her usual hunting grounds, in fact she generally avoided the entire county out of principle, but someone had to deal with the undead bastard. Thirteen muggle men had died and Hermione had the names of every single one seared into her brain as her feet pounded against the road.
It was dark and the vampire believed he had the advantage. Hermione was a scant five meters behind him, the dead man's blood she'd managed to inject into his system slowing him down enough that she stood a chance of catching up. Levitation charms had never been more useful. Up ahead she heard the vampire slow as it rounded a corner. Hermione scrambled up a bank, her machete held tightly in her left hand. The vampire had paused, momentarily distracted by something and she took advantage, leaping from the top of the embankment. The vampire stepped backwards, meaning that her blade sliced across, but not through, his neck. He made a gurgling sound that, had she not just severed his vocal cords, would probably have been words. Instead he lunged for her and Hermione sent a tripping jinx towards his feet, knocking him to his knees. She grabbed his hair with her right hand, yanked his head back roughly and quickly removed it from his body.
"Urk." Said Hermione, dropping the severed head onto the now collapsed body and wiping her hands on her jeans.
Somewhere behind her someone muttered,
"Shit."
Hermione spun quickly, still holding her bloody machete.
"Show yourself!" She demanded, stepping towards the figure hiding in the shadow of a nearby tree. There was soft sigh before a tall man stepped out into the moonlight. They stared at each other in amazement.
"Malfoy?"
"Granger?"
Draco Malfoy did not look well. His hair had been cropped close to his head, the short locks no longer slicked back but sticking up in a way which reminded Hermione of Harry. He was gaunt and pale, the poor lighting doing little to hide the large bags under his eyes or the sheer despondency which seemed to hang around the man. Hermione lowered her weapon somewhat sheepishly.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, now curious.
Malfoy flushed.
"Walking." He snapped, before he stared at the corpse behind her. "Uh...Granger did you just kill a man?"
She flushed.
"Technically...no. He was a vampire." She lifted the vampire's lip and showed him the fangs. Malfoy looked disgusted as she brushed her hands off on her jeans.
"And you beheaded him?"
"He murdered 13 people!" She protested. "Incendio" She added as an after thought, setting the body ablaze. She stepped closer to Malfoy and away from the flames. He stared at them, apparently hypnotized.
"Why you?" He murmured.
Hermione frowned at the wizard, looking for a shred of the boy she knew at school. Other than the crook in his nose that she'd put there himself, there wasn't much left to be seen.
"It's my job."
"What profession calls for knives as big as that?" The wizard asked doubtfully.
"It's a machete," She corrected, "And I'm in dangerous creature control these days."
His lips formed a silent "o" and he nodded.
"I shall leave you to it then, Granger." He told her respectfully and made to leave.
"Why are you being so civil?" Hermione asked.
He sighed heavily.
"Some of us learned things from the War, Granger. I wouldn't expect a hero like you to understand." For a second she heard the echo of malice that used to line all of their interactions before it was gone again.
He walked a further five paces before she called after him.
"Draco?"
The Slytherin shuddered at the use of his first name, but paused all the same as Hermione stepped after him.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing."
"Draco, you look like you did in our sixth year. I'd like to help, if I can."
He turned and stared at her.
"Why on earth would you want to help me?" he demanded hotly.
Hermione shrugged.
"Because I can." She murmured.
Malfoy smirked at her.
"Even you can't help me." He told her before attempting to leave. She grabbed his sleeve and held him in place, dropping her machete so she could rummage in her pocket.
"Here." She handed him a slip of card. "Call me if you change your mind."
Malfoy stared at her, looking confused, but pocketed the card anyway.
Hermione watched him leave, feeling both depressed and thoughtful. From what she knew, the Malfoy's had not survived their fall from grace well. Publicly ridiculed, they were all but outcasts in a society which had once worshipped them. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Draco, for all that he'd done to her in school.
The business cards weren't actually Hermione's. They'd appeared in her bag after the incident in TV land and Hermione suspected that they may have been an attempt at an apology for trapping her in a horror movie. She only suspected though because when asked, Castiel told her it was highly unlikely.
They were white with black lettering which read,
"Winchester Creature Control,
The Family Business
Dean Winchester
Sam Winchester
Hermione Winchester
Castiel Winchester"
and had their mobile numbers stencilled next to their respective names.
Hermione had tried to change her surname no less that thirteen times, but the cards continued to read Hermione Winchester no matter what she did. Eventually she just gave up. She didn't mind too much anyway.
After all, the Family Business had a rather nice ring to it.
A/N
Guess who finished college for the term!
Yep, updating should speed up now and I'll do my best not to make you wait for Swan Song too long. :)
Special thanks go to Woman of Letters for beta-ing this chapter, and thanks to everyone who keeps encouraging me.
My tumblr ask box is open anytime for questions or queries.
Do you know there almost no Hermione/Dean fanart? Sigh.
You'll hear from me soon,
Hood Out!