Author's Note: Still hanging in there? Awesome! Well, we're getting to the sticky end of things now people, only a few more chapters to go!

Oh, and if you haven't seen season 3, or the end of season 2 even... I hope you like spoilers.

Chapter 21: Change

Dune leaned back and pushed away from the windowsill, tense and frustrated. He turned to Vaughn, who was bleeding from above his right eye, and limping, and he wished he wasn't in this position. But there was no one else.

They had been decimated. Over half their population during the attack in their own home. And then another twenty in the attack on this safe house. Only Vaughn had survived. And Winchester of course. Or so they hoped.

He had disappeared, and that was half the frustration Dune felt. They knew he had left willingly, and that was good. But he had jumped out of a second story window, and that was bad. They all knew humans were fragile creatures.

"Are you sure none of the demons got into the bathroom?" Dune asked Vaughn once more, wishing still that someone else, someone better, was here to make all the decisions, to do the questioning. By human standards, he might have been immortal, but he was still young. But there was no one else.

Vaughn nodded, obviously tired. "I'm sure. The door was locked, and whole. The explosion didn't move it."

Dune rubbed his eyes. "We have to find him. It's too dangerous, letting him have the key when he's not immune to its persuasions." He nodded at the three waiting by the door. "Get on his trail."

They left immediately and he turned back to the window, trying to sort it all out in his head. He hoped Winchester was okay, and not lying in a ditch somewhere. He couldn't do anything against the demons after the key if he was lying in a ditch. They hadn't given the key to the man just to watch him hand over the End of the World.

"How did they even know it was here?" he demanded of no one. He turned back to the others. "I thought this place was protected?"

Vaughn nodded, eyes tight with thought. "It is. Demons can't sense us here. Demons aren't meant to sense humans here, either. They can't sense the power of the key here. Or at home, either. I don't know how they knew it was here."

The idea of a mole in their midst never occurred to them, for good reason. So single minded were they in their time-long task of protecting that horrifying well of power, that none of them could even consider turning it into evil. It was as physically impossible as cutting themselves in half.

Dune made a decision quickly. Beckoning with his hand, he nodded. "Bring it in."

He heard its snarls long before he could see it. Two of his fellows dragged it in, a small woman, eyes as black as night. Dune looked down on it with a frown.

"How did you know it was here?" he asked softly, and it grinned with the woman's white teeth.

"What, you think I'm just going to give you all our answers?" it chuckled, arrogant and cold, as if it wasn't hanging from its arms.

Dune tilted his head back, before drawing on the power inherent to every one of his kind. Just not many chose to use it, knowing too well that it took years off their longevity. But he refused to think about it.

"Yes," he spat, shoving as much power and persuasion into his voice as he could. They all took a step back, away from him, awed, and the demon fearful. "You will tell us. How did you know it was here?"

"We didn't," the demon answered breathlessly, unable to not answer, those walnut coloured eyes wide. "But we knew you were after one of the Winchesters. We knew as soon as they started having the dream."

"So you had Cannon lure them to his house?" Dune asked, frowning. It nodded.

"We did. We were going to take out the Winchesters before you could touch them."

"Why?" Vaughn asked, looking between the demon and Dune. "Wouldn't it be easier to go after him once you knew he had the key?"

It laughed, eyes widening even further with glee. "You don't know." It chuckled again. "You creatures, so distant and aloof in your little place below and away from the rest of the world. You have no clue what you've done, do you, by giving the key to Sam Winchester."

Once again Vaughn looked up at Dune, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

It laughed again, thoroughly enjoying itself. "We didn't know the key was here. Not for sure, anyway. Oh, you have no idea. No idea what he's capable of."

"We knew he was psychic," Dune argued, crossing his arms.

"Psychic? Well that's for starters, theoretically. You want to know why we came here. It was Sam," and she purred that last sentence. "He sang to us, Dune. Called for us, and we came for him."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dune repeated breathlessly, sure they had made a terrible mistake. "Winchester's one of you?"

It laughed again, deep and throaty. "Not likely. The boy was always stubborn. No, he was meant to be. Meant to be ours, our king, our lord. Sam Winchester, the Antichrist, boy-king of hell."

They all shared a look, and once more the demon laughed. "Oh, you're all in trouble. Oh, don't worry, he'll never willingly hand it over. To you, to us, to anyone. Not once it sinks its teeth in. And with that power boosting his own… the boy could be unstoppable. Don't worry, your key is safe. Very safe, and no one is ever going to touch it, unless it's over Sam's very literal dead body." It gave a chuckle. "I bet it doesn't even bother you that you sentenced him to a life on the run."

Dune refused to let it show on his face. Because it didn't bother him. For now, and he didn't think he would change. All he cared about was the fact that they had just very possibly handed the key to the End of the World to a very possibly unstoppable man. What it did to him was a simple fact, unchangeable and not something Dune particularly cared about.

And as he plunged a suddenly formless arm into the woman's chest, and pulled the demon out with his bare hand, his expression didn't change, didn't alter, even as the pressure of his invasion killed he woman. It didn't matter. It was inconsequential. They – Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, this nameless, dying woman in front of him – they weren't one of them, and they just didn't understand.

"You bastard," Sam spat, quivering. "You fucking bastard, I knew you had something to do with it, but… I should have realized!"

And he lunged forward, grabbing Dune by his shirt and driving him backwards until he thudded hard into the wall of the room. Dune never even lifted a finger to fight back, that strange well of emotions, once so completely alien to him, making him hunger and shrivel inside, feeling guilty and traitorous.

"I'm sorry, I'm so -."

Sam cut him off with a punch. "A fat lot of good that does me!" he screamed. "I lost twelve years of my life because of you and your… race!"

"Whoa, wait a minute, race?" Dean interrupted, stepping up and looking between Dune and Sam. It wasn't that he didn't want to kill Dune just as much as his little brother. He just didn't want Sam to be the one to do it, not without knowledge that the guy was evil.

But they both seemed to ignore him, and Dune grabbed onto Sam's wrists, not in any defensive way, but like he was pleading.

"We didn't know what it would do," Dune whispered, and Sam wrenched out of the man's grip to punch him once more, drawing blood this time.

"Don't lie to me!" Sam yelled. "You knew exactly what it would do, and you didn't give a rat's ass!"

"I changed!" Dune suddenly screamed, tears flowing now. He shoved Sam back, finally biting, taking up the fight. "All right? I changed, I am changing, I'm not who I was twelve years ago!"

"Doesn't do me much good, does it?" Sam whispered, stepping back a few times, shaking his head, an absent snarl on his face. "In all your change, can you give me back the last twelve years of my life? Can you give me my kid's childhood back, let me watch them grow up? Can you give me back my strength, and my free will?"

"It wasn't meant to be like that," Dune said brokenly. "We were interrupted, the demons attacked, and we had to stop -."

Dean suddenly interrupted him. "Can someone please explain to me, what's going on?"

They both turned to look at him, but it was Dune who nodded. "I think it's about time it all came out. But not here." And he turned and led the way from the frightening circular room.

Dean, afraid that Sam was going to attack the… attack Dune while his back was turned, raced to catch up to his little brother, glancing up at him, worried at the paleness he saw there. Worried at the inaudible mutterings, anxious at the random shakes of his head, so tiny you wouldn't notice unless you were watching.

"I used to come here," Sam suddenly spoke up, looking about the walls. "A few years back, I felt it pulling me. And I came."

Dune stopped and spun, his eyes wide. "It… it must have been the key. It was kept here for centuries."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what it was. But I could come here and relax, just for a few days, without demons. Until the memories drove me out, anyway."

"You're memories?" Dean asked, voice nearly catching in his throat. Sam shook his head.

"My life was a blank right up until yesterday. Even now, I'm mostly only going by what you tell me, and my gut." He shook his head. "No, it wasn't my memories that drove me out of here."

And that comment bore too much pain for any of them to comment on, and Dune took up the lead once more, taking them to a small room not far down from the one where Dean thought Jess and Cal still slept.

Dune took a chair, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. Dean knew Sam felt too anxious to sit, so he took the other chair, while the younger hunter paced restlessly.

"So… who… what are you?" Dean asked when Sam didn't speak up straight away. Dune shrugged.

"I'm the last member of an ancient race. We've been protecting that key since… the dawn of time, I think. Since it was discovered, anyway. Some people used to say we were created just to protect it, but I don't think so."

"So, you're not human?" Dean just had to clarify.

"No, I'm not," Dune grinned. "Do you know any human that's over three hundred years old?"

Sam faltered slightly in his pacing, but said nothing. Dean whistled. "Wow, you must have stocks in botox or something."

"Actually, I'm still pretty young. Not that there's anyone to compare it to anymore. Like I said, I'm the Last. The last of my kind, and it's my duty to make sure the key continues to stay protected."

"So, you gave it to Sam?"

Surprisingly it was Sam who answered. "He wasn't the Last when I got this," he interrupted, picking up on the capital. "I'm pretty sure he was there, but it wasn't even him screwing with my head. Just a few like him."

Dune flinched at the anger, though he had expected nothing less. This had been so easy a week ago. "I wasn't exactly the one to give the key to Sam."

"Give?" Sam demanded, stopping and glaring down at Dune. "Okay, so my memory isn't the best, but I don't think you ever asked me to take this on for you. Never! Just kidnapped me, changed me, and then dumped me back into all of this shit, so you wouldn't have to deal with it!"

"No!" Dune denied, jumping to his feet. "We never meant for it to happen like this. You were only meant to have it for a while, just so we could recuperate. We needed it away from here, just for a time. It was corrupting us, our race! It was killing us, we were slowly dying out because of it."

"And that was why you gave it to Sam?" Dean asked sharply. Dune nodded, thinking that at least the older brother got it. He was wrong.

Dean stood up as well, shaking his head and rubbing a hand through his hair. "And it never occurred to any of you that one of you might be able to take this thing away, deal with it, and give everyone else a chance to get your race back together?"

Dune's jaw dropped, and he went pale. He shook his head. "No, it didn't," he admitted quietly. "You have to understand, we're not human. I'm not human."

"Damn straight you're not," Dean snapped, turning to face Dune. "And let me guess, you think that it's because you're three hundred years old, cold, elite, arrogant, aloof, distant with ways to tap into power that humans couldn't even comprehend?"

Dune shrugged, unsure where this was going, and Dean, angered further by his non-committed answer, shoved him into the wall. "You're wrong!" he spat. "You're not, not human, just because you are all those things. You're not human because you don't have the opposites. Compassion, self-doubt, self-sacrifice, heart -."

"Hey, humans aren't exactly a bunch of idealistic, friendly, happy-go-luckers," Dune snapped back. "So many of them would never have taken this on."

"No," Dean admitted. "But they'll think about it, they'll consider it, even if they dismiss it seconds later. But you lot… you didn't even consider the idea that one of you could take that fucking key and be done with it."

"No, we didn't," Dune admitted quietly, looking away. "We gave it to Sam, hopeful we had finally found a way to get our race back. But we didn't mean for him to go twelve years without memory of friend or family, without all that human crap you just mentioned. We were going to give him his life back. We picked him because we knew you would help him, Dean. And then the demons attacked, and it all went up shit creek."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, eyebrows low. He refused to let his gaze waver from Dune's.

The… not-man sighed. "Yeah, we screwed with your head. We changed you, so you'd be better able to protect the key. And yeah, we never gave it a second thought. But we're not completely heartless. You weren't meant to be alone to do it. The key should have been your responsibility and you should have been Dean's. We had learned from our mistakes, and we were rectifying them."

"What mistakes?" Dean cut in, glancing at Sam. "You mean you had done this before."

Dune shook his head. "We had tried before. And sometimes we succeeded. But never for very long. The demons always found them, before we gave them the key, or a few days after, at most. We always got the key back, but a single hunter was never able to protect it by himself, and we knew that when we gave it to Sam.

"Only, then the demons attacked. We were only half way through the change, with… with messing with your head, Sam." Dune flinched at the low growl Sam emitted, but kept on. "We had done enough so you could protect the key, and let it help you protect it. We had given you a channel to the power it holds, the key's power, and we knew it would let you use it."

"Okay," Sam nodded. "What didn't you get to do?"

Dune bit his lip. "You have to understand, the key is corruptive by nature. That's why we had to be sure you wouldn't be tempted by the power, in your dream. That's why we had to test you."

"You didn't answer my question," Sam said slowly, dangerously. He seemed to be inching closer to Dune with every word, though he never actually moved.

"We didn't get to cut you off from its corruptive nature," Dune answered with a sigh. "We were going to let you be able to use it, without you getting any of its persuasions, without it being able to use you, like it has been. You were meant to get all of the benefits and none of the shit you've had to deal with. You were meant to be able to protect it of your own free will, not its. And now…"

"Now what?" Sam demanded through gritted teeth, actually shaking. God, he didn't want to hear this, he didn't. He didn't want to hear how these supposedly higher beings had fucked his life up.

But Dune again sighed, still went on. "And now it might be too late."

Dean went tense. "No. No, it isn't. Sam, just take it off. Take it off!" And he actually lunged for the key, in a sudden panic.

"No!" Dune cried, even as Sam took a stunned step back. And then a power hit Dean, and he was flung backwards, hard, into the wall.

The room went silent for a minute, as Dean sat up, putting a hand to the back of his head and feeling blood. Sam stood there, pale and horrified by what he had done. Dune just shook his head.

"I told you. It's too late. If you take that thing off Sam, it will kill him."

Oh my...

Happy New Years everyone!