A/N: Only one more chapter and an epilogue left after this one!

Quotes from this chapter are from 13x03 "Patience".

Castiel was ripped from his heated thoughts that were directed at his father when Dean, soaking wet, came careening into his room. He was on his feet in an instant, and they were in each other's arms, but his lover's grip was tight, panicked.

"Dean, what is it?"

"Hell. We're going to Hell. Come on."

Dean practically slammed a kiss to Castiel's cheek, and then grabbed his hand, leading him to the garage at a trot, calling Sam with a bloodied hand as he did so.

Castiel wanted to stop him, slow him down, ask him what he'd found out, but he knew.

The first demon had been right.

Jack was Hell's King and puppet.

"Sam, keep 'im compliant. We're headed to the garage to get the angel blades from the trunk."

There was a scream through the phone, and Castiel heard Sam say, "Don't worry. Got it covered."

Dean hung up, and continued dragging Castiel along, going faster now, the bunker flashing by.

"So he's there?" he asked, though he knew the answer. "He's really there?"

"Got it confirmed."

They entered the garage, and Dean's full-tilt run stopped at once again seeing the destruction to the Impala, so now it was Castiel's turn to tug and pull.

"We'll fix her after," he assured him, squeezing his hand as lightly as he could at the moment while adrenaline shot through his veins.

They popped open the trunk, grabbed the blades, and then Dean was leading him to the shower room of all places.

Sam was just as wet as Dean, water and blood dripping from both of them, and there was a demon held captive and tied to the showerhead, holy water raining down on him and filling the room with smoke.

"I don't understand," Cas began. "What are we-"

"He's taking us there," Sam answered as Dean tossed him a blade.

"You got that demonic teleportation thing, you son of a bitch?" Dean cried over the demon's screams.

He nodded, motions sharp and vigorous, blood pouring from between his clenched teeth.

"Good." Dean said. "Cas, you in?"

Castiel wanted to slow down, to stop, to talk about this, but he wasn't sure there was time. Jack could be getting hurt, or he could be hurting someone. The situation was certainly growing worse and worse with each second.

Funny that he'd prayed to God and help had come not from above, but through violence and blood and an entity from down below.

Sam turned the water off, and the demon gasped and sputtered out, words almost rounded as if his mouth was swelling up, "Can't… Can't do it in here. Too heavily… heavily warded."

"Fine, we'll take you outside," Dean began, and Sam cut in to finish:

"And if you try anything, we'll hunt you down."

The demon laughed, tilting his head back to look at all three of them, body limp, eyes defeated, but a challenge was still set in them.

"You don't even know my name."

Castiel helped Dean get him down from the showerhead, and summoned up his angel blade to press it against his back.

"Walk," he commanded. "And grace us with your name."

The demon spat blood at their feet, lips curled at them in disdain, a growl emanating from him. So it would appear they wouldn't be getting a name from him.

"Fine, don't talk," Dean grumbled. "We already got what we need from you anyway."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, yeah, buddy, insult us on the way to Hell, save some time."

They got the demon outside without anymore incidents, shoving him along. It was the middle of the night, cold, the wind blowing, not even the stars visible through the trees and the heavy cover of clouds. It was lonely, empty, just the kind of night he'd expect for something such as this.

Castiel hadn't been to Hell since he'd been possessed by Lucifer, and suddenly the thought of all that sprang into his mind, but it didn't just flit by as natural thought; it sank in, like a stake getting hammered through his chest, a great wound opening up, and he almost had to stop. Sam put a hand on his arm to steady him, but he couldn't make himself look at him.

Lucifer being back was his fault.

And Lucifer was Sam's torturer.

Jack.

Jack was important now. Lucifer was a later problem. Hell was before him.

Without further discussion they all grabbed ahold of each other, and then the world faded around them.

Sam felt as if he was falling through the earth, descending, and then his body got yanked, tugged, like he was going to rip apart. He tried to scream, but it all happened too fast, and there was no air to breathe. There was nothingness, and then hard ground rushed up at him, and he collapsed on his side, the air completely knocked out of him, his body aching. The cold of the ground seeped through his wet clothes, and into his skin, and he shivered, groaning as he rolled onto his back. There was a cloudy sky in his vision, maybe a twinkling of stars, trees, and he was surrounded by gravestones, immersed by a layer of fog. Castiel and Dean lay about him, and the demon was a little farther off, just a shadow.

They were still on earth.

Just as he was about to wonder what had done it, what had pulled them there, there was a boot by his head, making him start and glance upwards, and all he could do was stare at who was standing over him.

"Hey, Sammy," Lucifer greeted, blue eyes flashing with eagerness in the dark before they simmered to a red. "Let's talk about my son."

Jack wasn't healing. He thought it was because he had hurt himself with his powers. But now he was up off the floor, stumbling, trying to find his way out. He had to get out of Hell, he just had to.

He ran his hands over himself as he made his way through the halls, willing the pain to go away, the handprints, the red, the blisters, hating himself, hating what he'd done, hating how thin he was, hating his bare skin.

Why, why, why?

Jack couldn't be like this. He couldn't.

Have to save Heaven.

Have to save Heaven.

But not like this. He couldn't do it like this.

A demon confronted him, trying to help him, to keep him on his feet. Jack killed them.

And then he killed the next one.

Word quickly spread of the lives he'd taken, and Jack found himself running through the halls, going up, and up, trying to find a way out, nearly blind in his fear.

Footsteps were behind him, gaining on him, black smoke surrounded him, overcame him, and he fell to the floor, getting dragged down into the dark. He clawed at the stone, screaming as some of his nails broke off, and the demons got him.

They yelled and whispered and ripped and caressed, and Hell was all around him, and through it he heard Marell's voice, saying, "It didn't have to be this way, Jack. You could've had what you wanted. But you will be our king, a slave to us. Rumor has it you make a good slave."

Jack kept screaming, trying to cover himself, but there was no hope.

"H-h-how did you-? How are we-? Why?" Sam couldn't get his questions out and was tripping over them, barely breathing, stunned at who was standing over him. He wanted to shrink away, sink through the grass and dirt, and hide.

Lucifer started reaching down, and Sam was already getting up onto his elbows, rolling to get away, but this only seemed to help him in grabbing him. He got him by the front of his shirt, dragging him up to his feet, and stared at him hard, tilting his head at him, Sam uselessly scrabbling at his hands to try and break free

"Been a few months, huh, bunk buddy? But you're still just as aggravatingly perfect, aren't you?"

"Let him go!" Dean cried.

Sam was sure Dean and Castiel were on their feet now, but the demon he was unsure about.

"Did he bring us to you?" Sam asked.

Lucifer set him down, and brushed him off, making sure to touch as much of his torso as possible, leaving Sam tense and tingling, familiar disgust eating his stomach. He walked past him, ignoring Sam who knelt down to pick up the angel blade that had fallen from his hand. Lucifer must've known he had it, but didn't seem to care. Dean and Castiel already had theirs.

"That idiot? No, definitely not. Cas, buddy, do me a favor and kill him for me, will you? I don't want any uninvited guests at this uh - what shall we call it - four doesn't quite make an orgy, does it? Foursome. Let's call it a foursome."

Sam's jaw clenched, upper lip trembling, and he couldn't move, wasn't sure he could even make it over to Dean to hold him for support. But Dean jogged to his side, his grip on his shirt tight, yet fumbling. And Castiel did listen to Lucifer, killing the demon by slicing his throat - he didn't even have time to let out a choked cry.

"Now that that's done," Lucifer said, wiping his hands as if he'd done the work, leaving the three of them before him once the angel trotted back over to stand protectively by the Winchesters, "where's my son?"

"How did we get here?" Cas growled.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and started pacing. "Oh, right. That. Well, felt someone in Kansas trying to get to Hell, and I thought, who else could it be but you idiots, right? Used my powers, and yanked ya here. So let's be honest, I'm a little low on juice. I'm gonna unfortunately have to eat Cas though I had big plans for him, but I can mutilate his body I suppose, and then, Dean, I'm going to use his guts to tie you to that gravestone behind you, the one shaped like the cross - I like it for aesthetic purposes. Now, not totally feasible given that guts are all slippery and gooey, but I think with a bit of my powers it'll work just fine. Might strip you too, clothes, skin, nails, the whole deal. And then Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam, the things I have planned for you. Oh, I am going to go at you for days. Wonder what'll kill you first: the shock, the exhaustion, dehydration?"

"I thought you wanted to talk," Dean said, seeming to not have picked up on what Lucifer fully meant with the threat he'd directed at Sam, either that or he'd blocked it out. "This ain't really it. You done threatening us?"

"Come on, guys, I've had these fantasies for awhile. Let me live a little."

"No," Sam told him, forcing himself to take a step forward though he wanted to cower in fear, curl in on himself to make himself as small as possible. He held his blade up, ready to use it. "No, you don't get to enjoy this. You came to talk about Jack? Let's talk about Jack."

"Oh, Jack, so that's his name," Lucifer commented, coming closer, but Sam didn't back down. "You think he's your son, do you?"

"He is!" Sam argued.

The blow came before he even saw an arm coming up, and then Sam was on the ground, but he held onto his angel blade even more tightly, not daring to let go. Cheekbone throbbing, blood trickling from the wound, he lay there, and then there was a foot kicking into his diaphragm, driving all the air out of him. Sam tried to stab the blade into Lucifer's foot, but his hand was kicked aside, his wrist stepped on.

Dean and Castiel were on Lucifer now, driving him back, but Dean was thrown, head bashing into a gravestone, blood running. His eyes were unfocused, but he was on his hands and knees, trying to get up. Castiel was still facing off against him, holding the angel blade up to his face and trying to drive it into him, but Lucifer was forcing it back, trying to twist Castiel's wrist. There was a snap, but Cas held his ground.

Sam clambered to his feet and jumped onto Lucifer's back, an arm going around his throat, shoving his head forward with all his might, and the Devil screamed as the angel blade dug a few inches into his face, going through his cheekbone. He kicked out at Castiel, and Sam couldn't see where he aimed, but he heard a crunch, and then a cry from his friend, and he was being shoved aside, and then Sam was flipped over his back and Lucifer twisted.

A wheeze left him as the Devil stomped on his chest.

"Stay down," he ordered, even as Sam grappled with his foot, trying to get up.

As punishment for his struggles Sam was kicked in the face, till blood ran from his mouth, and he lay dazed.

Lucifer straddled his chest now, seeming so big on him, and, panicked, Sam's hands went to his thighs, trying to claw.

Dean and Castiel were dragging themselves up, and Lucifer held out a hand to keep them down.

"He's not your son," he told them. "He never was your son. Where is he, huh? Might as well hand him over. You took him from me."

"Not here," Sam gasped out, tears in his eyes at the truth, that Jack was in Hell, away from them. Maybe Lucifer was right. He wasn't their son.

"Where? I think you know."

Lucifer reached down, grabbed his face, movements harsh and unkind. He whispered, "You can tell me, Sammy. Dean, Cas, I can let them go, if you just tell me."

"And what will you do to Jack?" Sam asked, realizing his first thought wasn't about himself though this monster was on him, wasn't about the hurts in his body, or the burning touches replaying in his mind that seeped through his soul like black oil: it was his son.

Lucifer smiled at Sam and caressed his head as if he was a pet who had just done something rather stupid and silly, and Sam snarled at him, flinching away.

"I'm gonna use him."

Castiel roared at his words, having heard them though they had seemed only meant for Sam, and now Lucifer was off of him, going over to stomp on his friend.

"He's! Not! Yours!" Satan declared, his words punctuated with the heavy thwack! of his boot against Castiel's side, and then a crack! He was left on the ground, clutching at one of his ribs, gasping. Sam was crawling over to him, hoping to go unnoticed. "I'm the one who fucked his mother! I'm the one who got the bitch pregnant! It was my seed in her, my Grace!"

"You raped her!" Sam cried, unable to stay quiet, remembering how Kelly had talked of being used, knowing that she hadn't consented to sleeping with the Devil, but instead had thought it'd been the president.

Dean was too quiet, blood pouring from the wound on his head, but he was glaring up at Lucifer with defiance, even with his unfocused gaze.

"Quiet, or I'll rape you!" Lucifer snapped.

Sam flinched, and then he looked to Dean.

Dean was looking at him now, and he saw it: realization.

Maybe Lucifer's concentration had broken, maybe his powers were waning and he really was weakened, but Dean took up the angel blade and he let out a fierce yell, and he lunged right at him, getting him in the chest.

It didn't kill him.

If anything, it just made him angry.

His eyes were red as he ripped the blade free, headbutted Dean, and then stabbed the blade through his arm, and pinned him to the ground with it. Dean was screaming, and Sam tried to rush over to him, but Lucifer grabbed him and threw him with one hand, and he went tumbling into the grass. He grabbed the blade from his brother, and threw it at him when he tried to rise and it caught him in the thigh. Sam fell to his knees, and there he stayed, screaming through his teeth, willing his blood to stay in even as he felt his body going cold.

Castiel tried to go to him, but Lucifer held up his hand, fingers ready to snap.

"Make a move, and it's over. Now, I want Jack. Bring him here. One of you pray to him. Sammy, why don't you do it?"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, and licked his dry lips, the wind slicing through his clothes, life bleeding out of him.

The dark was turning into gray, and everything looked dead and despairing.

"Out loud," Lucifer added.

"I won't," he growled. Lucifer put a hand to Dean's throat, not taking his eyes off Sam. "No," he affirmed. "You're gonna just take away what everyone's taken from him. That's the thing, Lucifer, he's not mine, he's not Cas', he's not Dean's, and he's not yours. He's a kid, and he belongs to himself. So kill us, but he's going to destroy you."

Lucifer gave Sam a chilly smile that didn't meet his eyes, a challenge.

"We'll see."

With his powers, he withdrew the angel blade from Sam's leg, making him begin to bleed out, and he put the blade to Dean's throat.

Sam's only thought was of Jack.

Jack felt a tugging in him, deeper than his bones, and it felt like home. They weren't words, but words weren't needed.

Sam. Dean. Castiel.

They needed him.

They wanted him.

It was time for Jack to go to them, to go home.

He let out a fierce cry, fighting with all the demons, trying to see through the black smoke, and then he saw light, gold amidst the vast hellish darkness, and he felt his wings spreading out behind him even as demons tried to hang on and rip and keep him down below.

Sam. Dean. Castiel.

A tear trailed down Jack's face as he flew to his family.

He landed on cold grass just growing damp with early morning dew, and he had no time to take in his surroundings. Already adrenaline was kicking into high gear. Sam was kneeling, bloodied, Castiel was off to the side, still, eyes wide with horror, and Lucifer knelt over Dean, a blade to his throat, having sliced in by a millimeter.

Jack stood to his full height, letting his Grace fill him, heal him, feeling his body become how it was supposed to be, without its hurts, without its malnourishment, its mistreatment, its burdens, and his eyes glowed gold, his wings spreading out behind him.

He hadn't wanted to face his biological father just now, but it was something he was ready for, and evidently, he was the bad guy. And if Jack could save his dads, that was one good thing. Maybe it could fix the mistake his existence was. Maybe it could make up for the wrongs he'd done to them.

Lucifer got to his feet, seemingly in awe, mouth open.

"Jack? Jack, it's me. It's your father."

Jack glanced around at his dads, at Dean crawling over to Sam, even as he bled from his arm, Sam taking his belt off to wrap it around his thigh, at Castiel making his way towards them to lay his hands on them and heal, or at least comfort. They looked as though they'd been through a hard fight. He looked back to Lucifer, at the cut that marred his face, the blood trailing down it, and their blood that was on him.

"Did you do this?" he asked.

Lucifer shrugged. "Can you blame me? They took you away from me. They-they wanted to keep you for themselves, keep you weak, compliant."

"No."

Lucifer had been approaching, but he stopped dead at hearing Jack's commanding voice, and he put his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip, rocking on his feet.

"No?"

"No. You hurt them."

"Don't tell me you haven't hurt them too."

"I have," he admitted. "But I'm sorry. You're not. You… You made me. But they took care of me."

"Jack, I can do that too."

Jack glanced at his dads again, at all the blood, and guessed at what other wounds he couldn't see. He had been afraid of Lucifer, but now, facing him, after facing Hell, he wasn't afraid of him, really, not even afraid of himself. He knew he wasn't that. He wasn't the demons down below, and he wasn't this being before him who he was sure was somehow twisting words.

He shook his head, and held his hand out, feeling ultimate power rage through him. "No, you can't."

"Jack, we can explore the universe together, we can rebuild, we can be gods! You don't need them! You need me! Only I understand what it's like to be you, to be powerful, to be something that they're not! Look at them! Look! They're weak! They're pathetic and weak and flawed, and we're not! I'm not!"

"You are."

Jack willed one thing into his mind: Lucifer gone.

With a massive scream that turned into an echoing ring that broke the gravestones around them, inner light took over his body, like the burning of a dying, once beautiful, star. Blood issued forth from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, and his back arched as if he was pulled up by a string, forced to stand on his toes. The crimson of his lifeforce bubbled out of him, till he was unrecognizable and coated in the true color of his sins, and then light burst from him, a giant pillar that raged as cold white, blinding the humans who saw it, bringing tears to their eyes, and looking to Jack like a true test of his power. Jack was not this dying being: he was the destroyer of it. He would smother the bad, turn from it, be who he was meant to be.

"Jack, don't let anyone tell you who you're supposed to be. Because who you're supposed to be isn't fate, it isn't me, it isn't your father."

The dying Grace that had been his father issued forth a force so great that Sam, and Dean were knocked down by it. The light died, the sky was still that pre-dawn gray where everything was dead and pale.

"You are who you choose to be. And I know you're going to be okay. You are going to be amazing."

Ash rained from the sky, and the only mark left of Jack's father were black glittering wings spread out on the ground where a body would've lain had he simply been killed and had not met ultimate destruction. Lucifer was no more.

"You have an angel watching over you."

Jack let his powers fade in him, and he lowered his hand, tears in his eyes, looking to Castiel who held his other dads. An angel watching over him, over all of them.

Sam. Dean. Castiel.

"Dad!" he cried, knowing they'd know it was for all of them.

He ran through the ash that fell from the sky, ran through the graveyard, ran to them, seeing the awe in their faces, the tears, and he held them, encompassed by light as Castiel healed.

These were his parents. This was his family, and they welcomed Jack in the gray and the fog all around them.

"I have to go," he told them. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

Sam gripped his hand hard, even though it was slick with blood.

"No, no, no, no, no. G-go where?"

"Heaven. I'm going to save Heaven."

"No, Jack, don't," Dean argued. "Please, don't."

Cas: "Don't do this."

"I have to."

And this time Jack said it not because of what the angels had told him, but because he knew it would save souls, and save his mother, and it would be good. It was because he wanted to.

He'd found another way.

Jack kissed each of them on the forehead, remembering such a scene from a movie he'd watched with Sam, and then he promised, "I'll be back."

Jack went to Heaven.