Hey, hope you enjoy this chapter and as always a big thanks to everyone who has left a reveiw of a favourite :) Just to let you know I might be a bit slow updating for the next week or so as I've got some pretty important exams next week (I'm panicking somewhat), but I'll try and update as soon as I can. I managed to put this chapter up today because I had the day of college because of the snow, even though it doesn't even seem that bad in Preston, but I'm not complaining! ;)

Sam immediately rushed forwards and grabbed hold of Anna, "Come with me," he commanded softly, pulling Anna towards a cupboard in the shadowy corner of the room. The statue continued to silently weep blood, great drops of which splashed on the floorboards, leaving a bloom of red. Miriana pulled out her gun and aimed it straight and unwavering at the wooden door they had come through, stroking the trigger with her finger.

"Okay, stay in there, don't move," she heard Sam telling Anna as he shut the cupboard door carefully over her frightened face. Sam moved to stand in the middle, a little in front of them, his silver flask of holy water out and ready. Miriana kept her gun trained on the door, the rush of adrenalin beginning to kick into her veins.

"No Sam," Ruby admonished, "You gotta pull him right away." Miriana whirled to look at the demon, who was looking up beseechingly at Sam.

"Hold on-" Dean began, looking furious, but Ruby easily cut across him,

"Now's not the time to bellyache about Sam going dark side. He does his thing, he exorcises that demon or we die."

Dean cast a bewildered look at Sam as Miriana watched the battle raging inside him internally, conflict plain in his green eyes. Taking a deep breath as if preparing for a plunge, Sam tucked the holy water flask back in his pocket and squared his shoulders, facing the door.

Suddenly there came a resounding crash, and the door was blown back off its hinges, sharp splinters of wood whistling through the air. A figure appeared in the door frame, dressed in a dark blue suit and pale shirt underneath, his almost white hair slicked back against his scalp, wearing a cruel smirk across his thin mouth. Miriana could sense the evil around him; feel the dark power bubbling behind his vessel's skin. Ruby looked terrified, all the rosy blush gone from her cheek, and Sam looked apprehensive facing off against something so obviously powerful. He stepped smoothly towards them, brushing dust off of his hands and regarding them all with a cold stare. Sam held out his hand in front of him, his brows furrowed in concentration, and Miriana felt a brush of power scrape against her skin. the demon grabbed his throat as if he had something stuck in it, and his eyes flashed a dull, cold white for a brief few seconds, but then he gave a little cough as if clearing his throat and his eyes rolled back down to normality. Sam dropped his hand, looking bewildered, and Miriana tightened her grip on her gun so her knuckles stood out stark white.

"That tickles," the demon said in a nasally voice as he strode towards them, "You don't have the juice to take me on, Sam."

He flicked his spidery hands and Sam's feet left the ground and he was dragged as if by an invisible rope towards the staircase. He smashed through the wooden banister with a splintering crash and tumbled headfirst down the stairs, landing with a heavy thump and a loud curse halfway down the stone steps. Miriana winced, then felt the white hot flare of anger in her chest again and she aimed her gun at Alastair; before her finger so much as brushed the trigger it was ripped from her hands and it clattered useless on the floorboards. A force as hard as an iron bar smashed into her chest, throwing her backwards against the wall, as hard as if she had been hit by a car. She fell into a haphazard pile of boxes and they gave way under her weight, sharp splinters snagging her clothes and ripping savagely at the skin underneath. She struggled to get to her feet, winded, all the breath forced from her lungs by the crushing power of the blow the demon had delivered her. She back ached from where it had slammed into the pile of boxes and she saw stars, having hit her head on the sharp corner of a wooden table nearby. She felt the hot trial of blood snake its way down her face and cheek until she could taste the sickening metal of her own blood in her mouth. She saw Dean lunge towards the demon with Ruby's serrated knife bared, but before he could slam knife into his target, the demon grabbed hold of Dean's wrist easily and fisted the other hand in the collar of Dean's shirt.

"Hello again, Dean," he said in a simpering voice, grinning like a jackal. He slammed Dean hard against one of the wooden pillars, so hard he dropped the knife and it fell to the floor, the blade clanging against the wooden tiles. Miriana struggled to her feet and cast her eyes around the room for Ruby; what the hell was she playing at, cowering whilst the three of them got ripped to shreds. She lunged for the demon, throwing her arms around his neck in a chokehold. They struggled against each other for a few long seconds whilst Dean spluttered on the floor, fumbling for the knife. Miriana let out a scream of frustration as the demon slammed them both backwards into the wall, knocking the breath from Miriana's lungs once again, he arms slipping from around his neck. In the corner of the room she could hear Anna's panicked cries, and saw Ruby with a vice like grip on her slender arm, dragging her forcefully towards the staircase with a look of grim determination on her face.

"Come on Dean, don't you recognize me?" the demon was asking in his grating, nasal voice, "Oh I forgot, I'm wearing a paediatrician." He punched Dean across the mouth, which was already streaming dark blood.

"But we were so close," he continued, as Miriana staggered back to her feet once again, bruised, aching and bleeding, stars dancing in front of her eyes. Dean knew this demon?

"In hell," he finished, delivering yet another blow.

Dean looked back at him, and Miriana saw the faintest hint of realization dawn on his bruised face, "Alastair," he whispered through swollen lips.

Alastair whirled suddenly, just in time for Sam to plunge the knife into his chest; it burst through his vessels skin with a crackling like electricity, but he didn't collapse. Instead he grabbed hold of Sam's hand, still grasping the knife, and hissed,

"You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that, son!"

He flung Sam away from him, but he just managed to keep on his feet, regained his balance and then locked his hand on Miriana's arm and yanked her with him towards the stained glass window. She cast a panicked glance behind her shoulder, to see Alastair struggling to wrench the knife from his chest, apparently in great pain and he savagely twisted and pulled the blade. Sam pulled on her arm painfully hard, and she, Sam and Dean ran full tilt at the stained glass window, throwing themselves through it with a resounding crash that hurt Miriana's ears as she burst through. She felt razor sharp daggers of glass tear through her clothes and she the cold air of the outside world slapped her across the face, the wind ripping through her hear and scraping against her exposed cuts. For a few terrifying seconds she was falling, and then she and the Winchesters slammed into the hard ground, praying she wouldn't crack her head again. She lay, gasping and fighting for breath on the neatly tended grass outside the church, then she felt herself being hauled to her feet by two sets of hands that roughly stood her up as if she were a rag doll.

"Come on," Dean grunted, holding his ribcage gingerly. Yet again she was dragged ruthlessly fast towards the wrought iron gates and practically throw through them, hard enough that she nearly lost her footing and fell face first on the tarmac of the road.

"Get back to your car, and drive quick," Dean spat through a mouthful of blood, "Get back to your motel and call us."

Both he and Sam threw themselves into the Impala and set off so fast the brakes gave a squeal of protest and the wheels kicked up grit from the road. She staggered to her own car and wrenched open the door with her sore, bruised fingers, sliding into the driver's seat and her jamming the keys into the ignition. She cast one last look up at the smashed window they hand burst through, to see Alastair watching her, stroking the blade of Ruby's knife with his fingertips, a cruel frown on his face.