I gulped as Sam spoke up, his jaw set stubbornly, "So you're saying there's no way to get Dean out of his deal?"

"Oh, there are plenty of ways," Pruslas informed us, "But I seriously doubt you could pull any of them off."

"Like," I questioned, annoyed that Pruslas hadn't mentioned any of these possibilities sooner. Damn demons – they don't know what they're doing, I swear. Ruby included, if you must know.

"Kill the Hell Hounds as they come for him," Pruslas suggested.

"And how do you do that," Bobby questioned.

"By hitting them with anything dipped in Lillith's blod," Pruslas countered, raising an eyebrow at Ruby, "Didn't you know that?"

"We aren't finding Lillith," Ruby growled, her eyes flashing black at Sam. Sam's brow fell as his eyes simultaneously widened as we all realized Ruby had known that was an option all along, and yet didn't tell us. Her eyes turned to Pruslas, her lips pursed in a way that should have been threatening, "What else?"

"You could make a deal with me," Pruslas suggested, his eyes glowing red and almost bulging out his head at the thought, "Soul for a soul; another Winchester should suffice."

"No," I cut in, glaring at Sam as his eyes flashed again. He turned to me, and I almost fell off the bureau when I saw that he was angry. "Sam, no; we're not killing you to save Dean. He wouldn't want it; he'd have you back out of hell in a heartbeat and he'd probably have to give up something much more important than just his soul. It's out of the question."

"You could… oh," Pruslas' eyes glowed again as he turned over the next option in his mind, "Now, wouldn't that be interesting."

"What," Bobby questioned, his hand automatically gripping around his gun. In response, I dug my nails into the handle of Ruby's knife, the name of which I forgot. Pruslas chuckled at our responses, turning for an instant to face me before turning away again.

"No need for those toys; I'm being a good doggy." I sucked in a breath, my mind turning what he'd said into a threat against Phantom. Focusing very hard on the back of his head, I tried to remember that what he said was important to, and that I should be listening, "You could strip Astaroth of all his power."

"What would that do – there'd still be a deal," I rolled my eyes. I really, honestly, hate demons to the very core of my being. I don't think they help anything – I think if they did, they would explode from such an overload to their system.

"Yes, but if Astaroth doesn't have the power to take a soul, then he… well, think for a minute, kiddies."

"What do you mean doesn't have the power to take a soul," Bobby grumbled at him, still standing with his hand on his gun.

"I mean that as demons get older, they get stronger; once they're strong enough, then they can start making deals and taking souls. But, if they're power is mysteriously taken away-"

"And let me guess – there is no way to take away his power." Ruby's lips were still pursed as she responded to my sarcastic not-really-question.

"No, there is." Ruby's eyes turned from Pruslas to me, "Every demon can have its power stripped – in case a demon gets too power hungry and any other demon strong enough thinks it needs to be stopped. But stripping their power is nearly impossible unless you have their-" Ruby's neck craned unnaturally as she turned towards Pruslas, "Their weapon."

"Their weapon," Sam echoed, "What the-"

Pruslas held Ruby's gaze easily, "It's a sword; most demons don't know where theirs is, but it stays in whatever dimension theirs is in."

"So it's here?"

"Somewhere on this great big ball of blue, yeah," Pruslas nodded, the back of his head bobbing slowly, "It's got their blood in it. You stab them with the sword, the blood absorbs their power, demon is automatically back to the basics, if you will."

"And how do we find his sword then," Sam said, wrapping his mind around the idea all too quickly. I was still trying to… absorb the information. Basic things, even – demons have rules, safeguards, almost a system of laws and justice. What next – charitable organizations for the poor, needy demons?

"You don't; they're untraceable. No demon knows where their sword is, save one." Pruslas laughed at that moment, "This is just too perfect!" Everyone looked at each other oddly, including me and Ruby. Ew, now I need to wash. "The only demon in the entire fucking universe who knows where their sword is is Astaroth!"

My muscles tensed at the news, "Where is it?"

But Prulas couldn't hear me over his laughing, "He just stumbled upon it while he was terrorizing a town for fun; found some barrier he couldn't cross, made me figure it out!" Pruslas continued to dissolve into hysterics, but he somehow heard Ruby's explanation over it.

"Demons can't enter the building where their weapon is kept, so they can't take possession of it. The only way their weapon can be taken from wherever it is with the intent to stab them."

"So of course it's still there, rotting away in the basement!" Pruslas continued to laugh loudly, and I yelled to be heard over him.

"Where is the damn sword?!"

"I'll never tell," Pruslas' eyes grew sickeningly red again, his smirk an attempt to confine the giggles that kept escaping, making me certain he was crazy as he turned to look up at me, "Had to make a promise not to tell. And no one breaks Astaroth's promise, they can't!"

"Let him go," Bobby ordered, and Ruby stepped forward and scratched the circle obediently. Immediately, Pruslas poofed away, still laughing. Bobby sighed, "I think that's the best we're going to get out of him."

"I think we should've pushed him harder," Sam growled as he fell back onto the bed next to Ruby, "We got nothing."

"We got something, Sam," Bobby insisted, "We know his weapon is some place he's been. We just don't know which place. What do we know about his movements?"

"We know he hasn't left this town since he was let out of Hell," I voiced helpfully, my hopefulness sadly fake.

"So it's somewhere in these god forsaken city limits-"

"Unless he wants everyone to think it's here when it's really in China," I finished for Ruby, "Yeah, we've narrowed it down."

"Well, we ain't gettin' to China anytime soon, so let's assume it's here – he wouldn't want to take the risk, probably. We'll search this town inside out looking for something supernatural; anything supernatural. Or that looks like a sword, for that matter."

For a second, for some reason, my mind flashed to a memory, and I interrupted Bobby's dolling out of parts of the town to search, "Hey, guys, Pruslas said that Astaroth couldn't get into… wherever it was, right?"

Bobby looked at me oddly, but it was Sam who answered, "Yeah."

And in my gut, I knew where that sword was. My stomach jumped into my throat, and I'll forever blame my certainty on my Slayer instincts, and I nearly jumped off the bureau. Nearly. But reality hit, and I started to doubt myself.

If I run off and check it out, and I'm wrong, then I'm wasting my time and screwing up whatever system Bobby's making up. And time is definitely one of those things that is of the essence in this situation. I've got, what, eighteen hours? Do I really want to make it seventeen.

"Carrie, I think we'll send you to the opposite side of town, since we don't want Dean seeing you-" And that did it. I knew I had to go and check it out immediately. Especially if Bobby's not going to send anyone over there.

Sam's keys were on top of the TV, and I'd grabbed them and was out the door before anyone realized I'd moved. I didn't pause in the parking lot, or to try and think of where to go. Instinct drove me to this, and instinct can get me lost for all I care. I've just got to go.

The only moment that I stopped to marvel at myself was just before I stepped into the Impala. The baby. I'm about to steal Dean's baby. Moreover, I'm going to steal it to go see if I have what it takes to save his soul, which he kicked me out of his room and out of his life to do.

But really, none of the rest of it fazed me. Just the part where I'm stealing the Impala.

"Carrie," Sam called as he stumbled out of the motel room, and that was all the time I had. I dove into the car and took off, praying that I didn't hit anything on the way, or that instinct didn't somehow drive me into a tree. Despite my reassurances to Dean, I'm not always the best driver. And, well, if I end up saving Dean's ass, I don't want to have to die because I scratched his paint while doing so.

With a few deep, shuddering breaths, the reality of my stealing the Impala faded away and the reality that I could be wrong and therefore ruing our chances of saving Dean, which I consider to be killing Dean, set in.

Dean took a deep breath as he awoke to his last day alive. With a strange kind of resignation floating through his mind, Dean couldn't say that he was terribly sad. Sure, he didn't want to go to hell, and yeah, he'd miss Carrie and Sam and Bobby, but he'd be done with hunting. No more nights sitting up because you thought you saw a ghost in the closet earlier; no more sleepless nights trying to figure out how to save an innocent person from some nameless villain. He'd be… free.

Yawning, then, Dean turned onto his side to face Sammy, his brow furrowing when all he saw was a bed in the same exact condition it had been last night when Dean fell asleep – neatly made with the comforter wrapped around the pillow in that magical way only maids could achieve.

"Sam," Dean called sleepily, rubbing his eyes before focusing on the clock. Ten AM on the dot. Stretching his back and flinching at the sound of it cracking, he stood and stumbled towards the bathroom, squinting to make up for the lack of light. The door was open, and so Dean fell back onto the bed and crawled towards the bedside table, where his phone was charging.

Sam's speed dial was second, and within moments Sam answered, "Uh, hey, Dean."

"Sammy," Dean grunted, "Where are you?"

"I'm with… Bobby and Ruby."

And just like that, Dean was awake. He sat up in bed, his charm flopping uselessly against his chest, "What?"

"I'm with Bobby and Ruby, Dean." And all the implications flew into Dean's head, leaving him to scream curses.

"I told you not to! Damn it, Sammy, did Carrie put you up to this?" The words were the only things that weren't jibberish, and Sam jumped on the question thankfully.

"I put Carrie up to this."

"Put her on the phone," Dean ordered, ignoring completely what Sammy had said. It had to be Carrie – it didn't make sense for it to be anyone else.

"Carrie left about four hours ago; we don't know where she is." Dean cursed again before demanding an answer.

"Where was she going?"

"She was going to find what we need to save you, Dean, and then… probably after the demon who has your contract.

Dean muttered a 'damn it Carrie' before standing to shove on his jeans, "Where is the demon? I'll head her off."

"We don't know, Dean. We can't find him."

"Scry for him."

"He won't show up," Sam told his brother as Dean looked around for a shirt, "And she has the Impala."

Dean froze midway through pulling the shirt he'd finally found up his arm before shutting his phone angrily, "Son of a bitch."

You will be the death of me; you will be the death of me
Bury it, I won't let you bury it, I won't let you murder it, I won't let you smother it
Well our time is running out, our time is running out
You can't push it underground, you can't stop it screaming out
I wanted freedom - bound and restricted
I tried to give you up but I'm addicted
Now that you know I'm trapped, sense of elation
You'd never dream of breaking this fixation
You will squeeze the life out of me