8/12/2016 - I hit writer's block on this one and ended up writing a chapter of my next fic instead. That sort of got the gears finally going and, well, here it is!

Not much to say, but if anyone could look at the other fic's first chapter I'd be grateful. Trying out a new literary format and I'm not sure if it's working.

Thank you so much xxRomanceGirlxx, thedarkpokemaster, demon19027, and Mystery Guest for the reviews! And hello to the people in the balcony favoriting and following!

The group ended up telling Lucifer and Glory that they needed time. The Hellgod's eyes had glowed mutinously, but when the archangel snapped her fingers and locked Crowley in a collar and chain her mood had brightened. Lucifer tossed the leash to Glory, who immediately yanked hard and cut off the demon's objections. The two parties clarified how they would communicate before the inhuman trio disappeared.

A somber group headed back to the Bunker, mostly in silence. As soon as they arrived, Giles made a quiet request and they crowded around the library tables. Buffy couldn't bring herself to sit and paced back and forth. "Okay solutions, people, solutions." She focused on Anya and then at Rowena.

The ex-demon shook her head and Rowena sighed. "Near on four hundred years I've b'n a witch. Never heard of someone gettin' out of a demon deal, no matter how powerful they were. I'm sorry, dearie, I've got nothing."

"When someone spoke their wish I had to fulfill it," added Anya, "no matter who died or what other consequences there may have been. Buffy, one wish started the Russian Revolution of 1905. When the wishmaker begged it to be reversed there was nothing I could do. When demons of any sort go about crafting these things, they take thousands of years to insure that they're airtight."

"There's only one way I've seen," Dean answered. "It took the King of Hell to do it."

"Which is more likely the reason why Lucifer took Crowley away," Giles surmised, "rather than just to give him over to appease Glory. Poor fellow."

"Trust me, whatever that dick gets he deserves it."

"I'm sorry," Sam gently said to Buffy, "if there was another way we would have figured it out already."

"How do you know?" she asked. "Maybe with Giles and Tara and Rowena and even the rest of us, Anya even, maybe we'll find something you missed."

The Winchesters glanced at one another. "Our dad made a deal, remember?" Sam said carefully.

"That's not good enough. You didn't even know he did it so you didn't have a chance to prepare."

After a few moments of tense silence, Sam said to his brother, "You want me to do it?"

"I'll tell her," Dean answered with a sigh. "Buffy, I made a deal."

An astonished Giles uttered, "What?"

"For Sammy. He'd been stabbed in the back, died in my arms." Dean was looking off into the distance, not focusing on anyone or anything in particular, while Sam had his eyes closed and one hand over his mouth, stricken by the memory. "Found a crossroads, made a deal. She resurrected him, gave me only a year."

"We looked everywhere," Sam said softly. "A small something, anything. Only thing we found was that the contract was being held by Lillith, the first demon, the most powerful demon."

"And then?" Buffy demanded.

"She came to collect personally," continued Dean. "I went to Hell."

"Th-That's good, isn't it?" Tara commented. "I mean, you're here now."

"It took a garrison of my brothers and sisters to rescue Dean from the Pit," Castiel countered. "Many of them died."

"You're useless, you know that?" Xander snapped. The seraph looked down and away.

Abruptly, Dean was on his feet. He stalked over to where the young man was sitting and hauled him up by the back of his shirt. After slamming Xander against the bookcase, the hunter snarled, "All right, asshole, this crap stops now. Cass might have screwed up royally when he released Lucifer, but your friend had to be willing to take the guy in. That means Lucifer asked and Willow said yes. And the only reason that the dickbag could slip out was because I let out the Darkness."

"Oh, yes, let's shift the blame for that one now," inserted Rowena, irritated.

Dean let go of Xander while he told the witch, "Shut up." He looked back at the young man. "You're angry, I get it. But that ain't helping anything. So keep it to yourself until this is done, got it?"

Xander considered, for a moment, punching Dean. Then he realized that, unlike Castiel, the hunter probably wouldn't hesitate to beat him into the ground. "Fine," Xander finally grumbled.

"Good." Dean gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder (which hurt enough that Xander was thankful for his decision) and returned to his chair. He and the seraph surreptitiously exchanged a look of thanks.

However, after that there came silence. No one had any ideas, and the Winchesters' story had dampened their mood. In the stillness, a small voice asked, "What happened in Hell?"

"What?" Dean replied.

Dawn gazed sorrowfully at him. "What happened to you in Hell?"

"Dawn, no," Buffy urged at the same time that Giles opinionated, "I really don't think you should–"

The Slayer's little sister held up a hand and the two of them hushed. "Please, Dean."

"Now?" asked the astonished hunter. Dawn nodded. "Don't you wanna, you know, do it in private or something?" She shook her head.

The elder Winchester looked about and found seven pairs of eyes fixated on him in a sort of macabre anticipation. The eighth, Sam, had leaned forward into his hand again and the ninth, Castiel, had his eyes upwards as if beseeching his absentee Father. "Damnit," Dean muttered. "Look. They're going to hurt you. A lot. So much you're going to wish you could die all over again just to make them quit."

Buffy's hand was on her mouth and her eyes were filling with tears. Dean continued, "Then at the end of the day, they're going to tell you that it can all stop. You just have to pick up the knife and start doing it to someone else."

"Why?" asked Xander.

"Because enough time doing that in Hell and you lose your humanity," Castiel explained, "and your soul becomes a demon."

"How much time?" whispered Dawn.

"I don't know," Dean responded. "Time don't move right down there. I thought I was gone forty years, Sammy told me it was just a couple of months." He wiped a hand down his face. "I… I held out for thirty. Spent the last ten doing what they asked. But I ain't a demon." He looked pointedly at Rowena.

"Aye, that's what happened to Fergus," she affirmed. "Doubt he held out nearly as long knowing my boy."

"Okay," Dawn said quietly. "Thank you." She stood, slowly, and looked at everyone. "We're going to tell Glory she can have her Key."

"No!" cried Buffy as she ran to her sister and grabbed her by the shoulders. "We're going to find another way! We-We-We will get Crowley, make him cancel the contract–"

"Then how will you get Lucifer's blood?"

"I don't know! We have time, right?" Frantically Buffy swept her tear blinded eyes around, trying to find reassurance and found only bleakness. "Something… Something in-in-in storage, we can get… use…"

"We finished cataloguing everything," Anya stated gently. "There wasn't anything."

"I'm sorry, Buff'," added a sorrowful Xander.

Dawn wrapped her arms around her big sister in a heartbreaking role reversal of who comforted whom. How many times had Buffy held her and told her it was going to be all right? How often was it that Dawn had laid her worries on her sister, letting the Slayer absorb the pain so the girl could move forward? "It'll be okay," murmured the younger Summers through Buffy's sobs. "I get to go to Heaven, remember? I'll be happy and you guys will get to be safe."

Giles cleared his throat. "I think it would be best if we went to sleep. Perhaps the morning will lend itself to some fresh ideas."

With the screech of chair against floor they stood. The Sunnydale expats all gently hugged, patted, or otherwise did their best to comfort both Summers. After an acknowledging nod from Dawn, Dean gently extricated the inconsolable Buffy and did his best to lead her away. Soon the only ones left were Dawn, Sam, and Castiel. The young girl looked at the angel. "Don't you need to sleep?"

"No."

"Dawn," Sam said, "you're taking this a lot calmer than I would have thought."

The girl opened her mouth confidently and then snapped it shut. Her lip quivered and tears began tracking down her cheeks. "I'm not," she managed to gasp as she used her sleeves to wipe her tears. "I'm terrified. I just needed to be strong for Buffy." Her face scrunched and she whispered hoarsely, "Sam, I'm so scared!"

Sam knelt down in front of her chair and gathered her in his arms. Dawn wept and wailed her fear, muffling them in his shirt so that the sounds wouldn't carry. Castiel walked over and crouched behind the hunter. "Dawn?"

Momentarily stifling her cries, the girl looked up at the seraph. He smiled. "Would you like me to tell you about Heaven?"

She gave a small nod and a brief smile of her own before sitting back in her chair. "I'm going to head to bed," said Sam, "unless you want me to stay?"

"I'll be okay," came Dawn's watery answer.

"I will watch over her," reassured Castiel.

Sam gave the girl a fatherly kiss on the top of her head and began heading for his room. Then he stopped and turned around, suddenly baffled. "Hey, have either of you seen Spike?"

The others shook their heads. "Not since we arrived," replied Castiel.

"Huh. Wonder where he's gotten to."

"Yo."

Rowena started as she closed the door to her room. She'd wandered about with the intention of rifling through that storage room of theirs, but the ex-demon and her angry boyfriend were busy fornicating inside. When she spotted Sam approaching she nixed the idea completely. Most ordinary men were of no consequence to the witch, but these Winchesters made her cautious.

Which was why a stranger's voice coming from her bed had her as jumpy as a squirrel. "It's very rude to be entering a woman's boudoir without her permission," Rowena chided.

"Whatever," scoffed Spike. "I need a spot of help, love."

"Oh?"

"You're some old powerful witch, yeah? All jacked up on magic and all that?"

Rowena crossed her arms. "I suppose."

"Good. You got a spell in there to contact that Amara?"

Interesting request. "Perhaps. Why?"

The vampire stood up and started pacing. "Need to talk to her, is all."

"Since it looks like I'm doing all the work, I dinnae see a whit of motivation for me."

Spike stood still and gave her a smirk. "How about gettin' that tosspot, Dean, out of both our lives?"

Rowena lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really now?"

"Darkness got some sort of loony affection for the git. Figure we tell'er he's ready to shag and off he goes."

"And you know this how…?"

"Overheard him and the Slayer having a bit of a heart to heart. Said it himself."

Rowena contemplated the offer silently. This could work quite well to her advantage. Surely Amara no longer looked at her with favor after discovering her canoodling with Fergus and the Winchesters. Delivering her the boy would certainly change the Darkness' opinion. Prepping Lucifer's dear aunt for the slaughter would do to get in his good graces as well. It wasn't quite as appealing as it had been after the archangel had gone and broken her neck, but it was always good to have a backup. Yes, this could work nicely. "All right, lad. I'm at your disposal. But not until we contact this so-called God of theirs."

"What? Why the holdup?"

"Call it what you want; delay, preparation, my own petty revenge for centuries of Scottish persecution by the English. I am not contacting the Darkness until we have a sort of backup if she becomes less than amenable to our ideas."

Spike resumed pacing. "So the nibblet agreed to the offer, then?"

"You mean the Key in the form of that wee lass? Aye."

The vampire sighed. If she didn't know any better, Rowena would have said he was sad for the girl. "Right, then," he finally said, "once God's holy arse is about we do it, yeah?"

"Certainly. I'm figuring you have an idea on how to get the Winchester and the Darkness together? Without his brother discovering the trick? The taller one might look like a sad little pup but he's the one with the brains between them."

"Don't worry, I'll figure it out."

"Then we have an accord," Rowena stated as she held out her hand. Spike gave it a vigorous shake.

One way or another, the witch would be on the winning side. A little revenge on top was just the cherry on the pie.

Dean brought Buffy to his room, just hoping to calm her down. Instead, the young woman collapsed on his bed, curled into a ball, and continued crying. Unused to feminine hysteria, the hunter made do with a bottle of Jim Beam. He poured a generous glass, urged the Slayer to a sitting position, and plunked the cup into her hand. She quaffed the entire thing in one go and then had a coughing fit. Dean poured another and she downed that one too. Buffy tore through a few more hiccuping sobs before the alcohol did its work.

"We can't let her do it." she stated.

"I don't think this is the right time to be talking about this."

"Make time," Buffy growled.

Irritated, Dean took a large gulp of his own straight from the bottle before throwing his arms out. "What do you want me to say? Girl made a deal and there ain't going back on it unless we somehow get ahold of Crowley. I had to frigging fly to Scotland and dig up the bastard's bones to make him do it last time. I hate flying." The hunter took another swig before saying, "Face it. You don't let her do this now, in ten years Hellhounds come to collect and she's going straight to the Pit."

Buffy drew her legs up and hugged her knees. She remembered Crowley's nightmarish illusion, the one where Dawn had been one of his black eyed demons, relishing the torture she inflicted. Now it seemed that the road led unerringly towards that destination, with the only possible alternative route being to undo her little sister's very existence. "Ten years is a long time," she pondered. "Maybe we can find something."

Dean shook his head. "Like what? No hunter knows. Men of Letters had nothing."

They were silent, the hunter's frequent gulps the only sound. "God," Buffy finally murmured.

Dean finished out the bottle. "Yeah, it sucks."

"No, stupid. God! We're summoning Him, right? And he's… God! He can change whatever he wants."

Recalling that angels hadn't exactly fit the biblical myth, Dean wasn't certain that who they summoned would fit the profile. "Can't hurt to ask."

Buffy nodded, her hopes hinged to the amiability of the omnipotent. She reached over and grabbed the now empty whiskey bottle and tossed it across the room. Intent on banishing her worries with an energetic distraction, the Slayer tapped into her strength to pull Dean to her and kissed him.

Their lovemaking wasn't as gentle or loving as before. Buffy left scratches on his back with her nails and gouges with her prosthetic. The pain only urged him on. Dean indulged her want for dominance, allowing her to ride him hard before switching back, gripping her wrists and driving into her an intensity that sent them both soaring. It was rough, it was quick, and it was just what Buffy needed to temporarily shelve her anger and her fear.

She clutched his back, mindful of the injuries she'd inflicted. He turned them on their sides, the both of them breathing hard. Buffy tucked her head under Dean's chin and indulged in a few more hitched, quiet sobs. After a few minutes of tears, she was asleep, and Dean, mentally and physically exhausted, followed soon afterwards.

Glorificus was in the middle of pulling Crowley's tongue out with tongs when Lucifer strode in. She made a disapproving noise. "Pliers have better grip, you know." The archangel picked a pair up from the table next to the rack.

With a terrific yank, the Hellgod ripped the demon's tongue out. "Eh, I'm a sucker for retro." Crowley gurgled out a scream then glared murderously at the two women. The extracted muscle was tossed into the roaring fireplace as Glory argued, "It's not your turn yet."

"Oh, no no no, take your time." Lucifer held up Crowley's cell phone. "The Watcher called. Deal is on!"

The two indulged in a few girlish giggles and squeals that made the demon roll his eyes. "When?" Glory asked excitedly.

"Morning after next."

The Hellgod picked up a serrated saw and sighed. "Oh, I can't wait to go home! You can make the alignment happen for sure, right?"

"Of course, don't worry about a thing."

As Glory pondered which limb to start on, she said, "You really need to come visit sometime. You can totally stay in my place!"

"For sure. Soon as we settle up with daddy and auntie I'll be free. In the meantime, I'll let some of those whiny demons tell me how to fix their troubles. You'd think they had no minds of their own."

"Have fun!" called the Hellgod as she positioned the blade on Crowley's ankle.

"You too!" Lucifer replied as the demon began to howl.