Thank you Shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for beta'ing my messes and VegasGranny and Ncsupnatfan for helping me to find the right words and balance.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mary looked up from the laptop as Dean stomped into the room. His face was lined with stress and Mary sighed and got to her feet. Before he could say anything, she pulled him into her arms and hugged him tightly.

He accepted her embrace for a moment before returning it, and she stroked his back before pulling away and saying, "No, I've not heard from him."

Dean blew out a breath. "They're taking their damn time."

Mary understood his stress and felt the same, but she knew it would be better when Sam and Clark got back. Or, for Dean, when Sam was back. She wasn't sure how he was going to react to Clark. He'd sympathized with him when Sam had told them the story of Ruby's death, but then Sam had taken off with him and that had soured Dean.

"They were in Rapid City when they called. It's going to take more than a couple hours to get here, even with Clark's driving."

Dean dropped down at the table in front of the laptop and peered at the screen. "Nothing helpful," he muttered, his eyes scanning the map of lit dots that denoted demon signs. There was nothing bigger than usual.

"And nothing over that part of Wyoming," she pointed out. "Which backs up what Brady said."

"Yeah, when he was topped out from an overdose and trauma of being a demon's meatsuit for months," Dean said. "He might be wrong."

"He said it again when he woke up," Mary pointed out. "And Sam believes him."

She was relieved to hear that Brady was going to be okay, and she understood why Sam had to stay with him until his family arrived, but she'd wished he could have come home.

It wasn't until Sam had spoken to him and heard his story to his family that he didn't remember anything of the last two years, the story Sam said Clark schooled him on, that he'd felt able to leave.

Brady was going to be taken to a treatment facility in Phoenix when he was discharged from hospital, and from there, he could start to piece his life together again. She knew nothing for him would ever be the same, but at least he had lived. She hadn't wanted Sam to lose someone else he cared about the way Clark had Ruby.

"I think we should go there anyway," Dean said. "Just to look around."

"Brady said it was a trap."

Dean glowered. "Yeah, a trap for the demons, whatever that means. The trap for us was supposed to be Jim, and that's gone to hell. We should at least look into it."

"We will," Mary said. "Let Sam come home and have a few days peace and then we'll all decide what to do together."

Dean sighed. "Sure. Okay." He pushed himself to his feet and said, "I'm going to work on the Shelby."

"Come with me to the store," Mary said. "We can get something special for dinner. Bobby should be back from seeing Rufus soon, too. We all need something good after everything that happened. A family dinner will be nice."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "A family dinner with Clark?"

Mary nodded. "He's invited." Seeing Dean's anger, she rushed on. "He's not family to me either, and I don't like Sam taking off with him any more than you do, but you can't deny it worked. He's obviously important to Sam and he's just lost the woman he loved and spent twenty-two years trying to avenge. He needs it."

Dean snorted. "Sure. A family dinner is exactly what will help Clark."

Mary patted his shoulder and said, "Come on. We can get steaks maybe."

She understood how Dean felt about Clark, and she thought there was a measure of jealousy for him to cope with, too. Clark would never take Dean's place in Sam's life, but he was making his own place there and that would be hard for Dean to deal with.

Dean grabbed his jacket from the hook and pulled it on and strode out to the car. Relieved that he wasn't putting up more of a fight, Mary grabbed her own jacket and followed him out to where he was standing by the Impala. She thought he might be soothed a little by driving what he affectionately called 'his baby'.

She got in the passenger side beside Dean and settled in her seat as he started the engine and the stereo came to life, blasting a Metallica song. He seemed calmer as he turned the volume down and said, "Got to protect your hearing, Mom. You're probably losing it already at your age."

Mary slapped his arm and he grinned.

They drove out of the yard, weaving around the junkers and onto the main road where Dean sped up the pace and began to tap the wheel to the beat of the music. They were just passing the cornfields of the Marshall Farm where Sam and Dean had played in as kids with the Marshalls' children when the radio died and the engine sputtered.

"What the…" Dean steered them to the side of the road and they both climbed out and went to the front of the car where Dean lifted the hood and peered at the engine.

"Do you see anything?" Mary asked.

"No, it's not gas, I filled her up yesterday. Maybe the battery…" He trailed off and then stepped defensively in front of Mary as two people, a man and a woman, stepped out of the corn and walked towards them.

They would have been a strange sight, hiding in the corn as they had, even without the black eyes that denoted their demonic presence.

Mary grabbed her phone out of her pocket and went for the speed dial assigned to Bobby, but before she could press it, it was knocked out of her hand as Dean collapsed back against her, the impact of the male demon's punch still rocking his head to the side.

She tried to catch him, but she was already under attack herself. The female was twisting her arms up behind her back and she felt a pinch in the side of her neck and then pressure as something was injected into her.

The lethargy swept through her and she collapsed, her eyes closing but consciousness lingering.

"Get them in the car," the female said. "I don't want some human spotting us and calling the cops. I'm not getting into a car chase with cargo as precious as this."

Mary felt herself being hauled up and carried, her head hanging awkwardly over the demon's elbow.

"You really think they're precious?" a male voice asked.

"If they get the special one to us, then yeah, they really are."

"Special…" Mary said, the word coming out indecipherable even to her own ears.

It didn't matter that she couldn't talk though. What mattered was what she knew. They were being taken to The Demon to lure Sam to him.

It was time, and they'd been taken out of play.

Sam let himself into Bobby's kitchen and called, "Mom? Bobby?"

"Hey, Sam," Bobby said, coming in from the hall and giving Sam a brief embrace. "Your mom and Dean are out. I got back about an hour ago and the Impala was gone. The fridge is pretty much bare though, so I'm guessing they're on a grocery run." He looked past Sam to Clark who had followed him into the room. "Clark. I'm really sorry about…"

Clark held up a hand and said, "Thanks, Singer. Appreciate it." He walked around Sam and went to the cabinet where Bobby kept his liquor. He picked up a bottle of whiskey and carried it to the kitchen to get a glass. "How are things here?"

"I reckon I know as much as you," Bobby said. "I've not been home. How's your friend Brady, Sam?"

"He'll be in the hospital a couple more days and then they'll take him to Phoenix," Sam said. "His Mom called to thank us—again—when we were on the road."

Bobby nodded. "I imagine there's a whole heaping of gratitude going to be coming your way for a while. She knows you saved him, even if she doesn't know the full story."

"Hopefully it'll stay that way," Clark said, taking a gulp of the whiskey he'd poured. "I think I'll head to the motel and catch some sleep. Call me if anything changes."

"Stay and have dinner," Sam said.

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Family dinner?"

"No, just something that didn't come out of a vending machine," Sam said. "I'll call Mom and let her know so she can make sure she gets enough." When Clark looked doubtful, he went on with what he hoped would tempt him. "We can have steak. You've never had Dean's peppercorn sauce. It's pretty special."

Bobby rubbed his stomach. "It sure is. Yep. You have to stay Clark. This is an experience no man should go without."

Clark shrugged and sat down at the table. "Tell them to hurry then. I've got some drinking to catch up on when I get back to the motel."

"Drink here," Sam said. "I'll give you a ride back."

He knew he was being so obliging that Clark would realize something was wrong, but he wanted him to stick around a little longer. He thought Clark going to get drunk alone with nothing to distract him from his thoughts was a bad idea. He wanted to take care of him in whatever small way Clark would allow.

Clark eyed him for a moment then nodded and threw back his whiskey and held out the glass. "You better get me another if I'm staying."

Sam took the glass and poured him another while dialing Mary's number and lifting the phone to his ear. It rang right through to voicemail, which was unusual, but he knew the grocery store could get pretty loud if it was busy and she might not hear it. He dialed Dean's number but that rang out, too.

He handed Clark's his drink and said, "They're not answering. I'm going to check in on them."

"Sure," Bobby said. "But you might not want to do your astral appearing thing in the middle of Food City."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Good point."

He sat down at the table and took a breath to relax himself before lifting and drawing himself towards Mary. He expected a short trip across town to her, but the distance was much greater, and he knew before he stopped that something was very wrong.

He slowed outside a church he knew well and then sank down through the roof and saw something that made him recoil in horror.

Mary and Dean were on the floor in front of the altar at which Jim preached. They were unconscious and Dean's temple bore a dark bruise. Standing over them was a man and a woman, the woman had her blonde hair cut short in a pixie style that flicked around her face, and the man was handsome and dark-haired. They both had black eyes.

The sight of them was disturbing, worse when you saw their pose over Mary and Dean, but it was the man in the long coat that stood at the altar over another prone body that chilled his heart. The man on the floor was Jim, his arms and feet spread with huge nails driven through his wrists and feet to the wooden floor, and standing over him was the yellow-eyed demon.

Sam's overwrought state stole his focus and he was ripped back to his body with a gasp. For a moment, he couldn't move, though he could feel the urgency to do something, and then Clark said, "Oh, wow, what the hell did you see?" and Sam sprang up.

"The Demon has Mom and Dean," he said. "They're in Jim's church. Dean looked like he'd been hit with something, and they're both unconscious. There are two other demons with them" He sucked in a shaky breath. "We have to go. He's there and he's going to…" His voice rose to a shout. "We have to go!"

"We're going," Clark said calmly. "Singer, get the Colt. Sam, take a breath. We've got a two-hour drive ahead and you've got to arrive with the energy left to hold that sucker. You have got to keep it together or all this is going to hell. Understand?"

Sam drew a breath and nodded. "Yeah. I've got it."

Clark squeezed his shoulder. "We've got the Colt. We've got you and me. If I can help you, I will. If not, I will do what I can for your mom and Dean while you do what you need to do. I can hold the other demons even if I can't touch Azazel." He shook him slightly. "Trust me, we can do this. Do you trust me?"

Sam stared into his eyes, seeing the determination there, and nodded. "Yes."

"Good," Clark said as Bobby ran into the room with the wooden box in his hands. "Let's go."

Sam followed him out and threw himself into the truck, his heart was pounding and his nerves firing so much he trembled, but in his mind he felt calm. They had been preparing for this for months.

The Demon had Mary and Dean, but they were going to save them.

Sam was ready. They all were.

It was time.

Dean stared into the eyes he hated more than anything in the world and tried to put his anger, loathing, and need to see the light in those eyes extinguished into his glare.

Ever since he had woken up in this place, his aching head fuzzy with drugs, he had been angry, but when that monster arrived, it had ratcheted up to levels he didn't know he was capable of.

That thing had killed his father, dosed his brother with blood, had Jessica killed and now wanted Sam for some screwed up 'destiny' that Dean was terrified of. He wanted him dead, now, but he was also scared because to kill him Sam would have to come and that was what The Demon wanted.

He looked at his mother who was perched on the pew across the aisle from him and saw her eyes were fixed on the body on the floor. Jim's death had been awful, horrifying, and Dean thought it was going to haunt his dreams for years to come.

They had merely started by crucifying him on the floor. It was when they started to cut into him that the real pain had begun for them all: Jim feeling it and them hearing his screams.

The final blow, the demon slowly shoving a candlestick through his ribs into his heart, had been a cruel blessing.

Dean had been angry with Jim, he'd hated what he had done, but no one should have suffered an end like that.

There was a second body by the doors. Mae, the woman who had been Jim's housekeeper as long as Dean had known him, had arrived and the demon the other two called Meg had snapped her neck. That had been a pitiful end, a waste, as she had never done anything to deserve it. At least Jim had earned death to some minds, even if not the kind he'd had.

"Mom," he whispered.

She looked at him and smiled. "I know. It's going to be okay."

The male demon they called Tom snorted. "You can't seriously believe that. You can't think for one second that the Colt is going to be enough against our father."

"Hush, Tom," Azazel said calmly. "The Colt will be enough to a fashion. That and the one that comes with it will pay for their freedom. I am a demon of my word, aren't I, Mary? I made a deal and kept it. It's unfortunate that poor John interrupted, though. You should have warned him."

Mary gritted her teeth and glared at him. She hadn't said a word to him or any of the demons. When Dean had raged and made his threats, she had soothed him and ignored the demons' taunts. She was strong.

"Ahh," Azazel said. "I think our boy has arrived."

Dean heard it, too; the sound of an engine roaring towards them and then cutting off.

"Get them up," Azazel said. "You know what to do."

Tom dragged Dean to his feet and hauled him to stand beside Azazel. Dean struggled and then froze as Tom placed one hand on his chin and the other on the side of his neck, just as Meg had done to Mae before she snapped her neck.

On The Demon's other side Meg had Mary in the same hold.

This was their defense. When he came, Sam would have to choose between saving them and killing The Demon.

Dean hoped he made the right choice.

"Places ladies and gentlemen," Azazel said as the church doors flew open and Sam, Clark, and Bobby ran in. Bobby stood in the middle of them, the Colt in his hands, and Sam and Clark had their hands outstretched, ready to act.

"Stop!" Azazel shouted. "One wrong move, a touch of telekinesis, Meg and Tom will snap their necks."

Sam froze, his face stricken, and Bobby's hand holding the gun out dropped an inch. Clark looked from face to face, appraising the situation.

"Good," Azazel said. "Now, Mr. Singer, bring me the gun."

"No!" Dean shouted. "Don't do it! Don't—" Tom torqued his head a little to the right, cutting off his words with the pain and threat.

Bobby was pale and his chest heaving, but he didn't move forward.

Azazel chuckled and addressed Sam. "You know you can't win without the Colt, and I know you can't let them die. You haven't drunk the blood so you can't exorcise me. You could exorcize Meg and Tom, possibly, but it would cost you your mother and brother. I would finish the job for whichever of my children happens to fall."

"Kill it, Bobby!" Dean shouted. "Do it!"

He loved his mother and didn't want her to be hurt, but they'd had an understanding developed over years of hunting that there were things worth dying for. This, the death of The Demon, was worth it.

"Sam…" Bobby said, his eyes still fixed on the scene in front of him.

Sam didn't answer and Dean shouted again. "Now, Bobby!"

Dean didn't know whether he was going to actually do it, but the hand holding the gun twitched and his eyes narrowed and then it was flying out of his hand and Sam was shouting, "No!"

Azazel waved his hand and the Colt flew across the floor towards him. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. "It's beautiful, really."

"Let them go," Sam growled. "You have what you want now."

"I have half of what I want," Azazel said. "I also want you, Sam. It's time for you to come with me. I am offering you the chance to come willingly. Come with me without testing those powers and I'll let your family live. I'll even leave dear Clark alive. Fight me and they will die."

Sam considered a moment and then nodded. "Okay."

"Sam, no!" Mary gasped as Bobby reached for Sam.

Sam twitched his hand and Bobby flew backward, hitting the heavy wooden door hard.

"You sure, Sam?" Clark asked in a low voice.

Sam nodded without taking his eyes off of his family. "If you help me."

"I will."

Azazel smiled widely. "Meg, Tom, grab him."

The demons dropped Mary and Dean and rushed towards Sam. They were almost at him when Sam said, "Now!" and Clark's hands flew out. The two demons flew away from Sam, collided with the walls with sick cracks as their heads hit. They stood with their hands spread and arms pinned to the wall.

Azazel frowned. "Do you really care so little for your family, Sam? My shapeshifters thought different."

"You're not going to touch them," Sam said, taking a step forward.

For a moment, Dean thought Sam was going to go with Azazel anyway, and he moaned his name, his leaden legs frozen with fear as his heart raced and tremors ripped through him, but Sam stopped and raised his hand.

"Sammy," Clark said, his voice cautious.

"I've got it," Sam growled. "Hold them."

Azazel looked amused and then shocked as Sam fisted a hand and began to raise it slowly. It looked as though he was fighting a high wind, but slowly, millimeter by millimeter, his arm lifted and the demon clapped a hand to his mouth.

Dean's fear-frozen legs unlocked and he ran towards Sam, Mary with him, but Sam didn't even seem to see them or feel their hands on his shoulders when they reached him. He didn't seem to hear them when they said his name either. His attention was wholly fixed on the demon.

"You can't do this," Azazel growled. "It will kill you."

"No," Sam said through his teeth. "It won't."

A trickle of blood trailed down his top lip and his face was almost white as it shook with strain, but Dean hardly noticed it. His attention was on The Demon who was clutching his chest as black smoke began to trickle from his mouth down to the floor.

"Father!" Meg cried.

"You've got it, Sam," Clark said, encouragingly. "You can do it."

Sam nodded, and with a cry of effort or pain, he yanked his arm up and a rush of smoke poured from the demon's mouth and hung in the air for a moment before sinking down through the floor, leaving sparkling ashes on the polished floorboards.

Sam's arm dropped and he staggered back into Dean's supporting arms. He held him up as Mary and pulled him into a hug that he didn't have the energy to return.

"You did it!" Mary gasped. "You exorcised him."

"Yeah," Sam breathed.

The two demons pinned to the wall threw back their heads, their necks straining against the pressure of Clark's hold, and black smoke poured from them and out of the partially open door.

"Figures," Clark said bitterly, walking around them and picking up the Colt.

Mary released Sam for a moment to yank Dean into the hug and he put his arms around them both and pulled them towards him. His mind was spinning with shock and joy.

The demon was back in Hell, and if Jim's theory was right, they had two decades before it would come back. They had the Colt and time to prepare for it again. When it came, they would kill it.

It wasn't all they wanted, The Demon dead, but they were all walking out of this alive and intact.

Sam pulled back and wiped at the blood on his face. "He's gone."

"He is," Mary said joyfully. "You did it!"

"How do you feel?" Clark asked him.

Dean saw Sam without the filter of shock and relief for a moment, taking in the pale face and bloodshot eyes, the blood on his lip, the way he was still shaking slightly, and his heart skipped, "Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "I could sleep for a week and I'd kill for a Tylenol, but otherwise I'm feeling pretty damn good." He grinned. "He's back in Hell and he's not dragging his way out anytime soon. We did it."

"I think we have you say you did it," Bobby said pointedly.

Sam shook his head and glanced at Clark. "No, it was definitely a team effort. But that's it for now. We've got years to be ready, to watch for him, and when he comes, we can kill him." A triumphant gleam shone in his eyes and he grinned.

Dean laughed softly, and patted Sam's back, happy that his brother had done this for himself and come through still standing.

It could have ended in tragedy and yet, thanks to Sam, they'd all made it out. The demon would be back, but for now, they could relax.

It was over this time, and if there was a next time, they would be ready, and Azazel wouldn't get off so lightly.

They would end him for good.

So… That is the end of Azazel… for now. I don't plan to come back to this world right now, but I'm not ruling it out as there is a full story outlined and another with a clear plot.

Until next the next story, whatever world it is for…

Clowns or Midgets xxx