Ash was in Hell. The throne room, to be precise. Before she could even think to move away, Lucifer's hand was on her head. She felt the familiar tingle of Grace flow through her, and felt more energized. He's…Healing me? She thought incredulously.

"I already have one dog, I don't need another," he said. "You should be strong enough to shift now, so we can talk like civilized…Supernatural beings."

Ash stared back at him. Of all the ways she saw this going—chained to a wall, chained to a ceiling, chained to the floor-having the Devil heal her so they could chat was not one of them. Maybe he just wanted to chain her up in her human form, so it would be easier to torture her? Whatever he had planned, she'd have to put up with it for now; it wasn't like she could take him on by herself. She shifted to human, and suddenly became aware of a half-dozen pairs of demon eyes fixed on her naked form. She kept her eyes locked on Lucifer, refusing to acknowledge the others.

One of the demons inched forward, a lecherous leer on his face; Lucifer's eyes snapped toward him, and the demon disintegrated. The others shuffled back reflexively while also pretending not to notice that their coworker had been vaporized.

"Hands off," Lucifer said, his eyes glowing. "Do I make myself clear?"

Heads nodded furiously.

"Good." He waved a hand, and every demon flinched in unison. "You're dismissed."

Burning buildings were evacuated with less urgency than the throne room at that moment. There was a brief jam-up in the doorway as five bodies struggled to exit at the same time, and then Ash was left alone with the devil.

Lucifer sat down on the throne and snapped his fingers, and a chair appeared beside him.

"Sit," he said, and though his tone was friendly, she knew it wasn't a suggestion.

She sat down a little awkwardly, still feeling extremely uncomfortable without clothes. She pulled her legs up on the seat and hugged her knees, taking her eyes off the archangel long enough to scan the room for any evidence that her own demon had been there.

There was no sign of Crowley. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign: given his track record with the Devil, Lucifer would have something especially unpleasant lined up for him.

He snapped his fingers and Ash flinched so hard she almost fell off her seat. As her heartrate returned to normal, she realized she was now dressed in her own clothes.

"Relax, kid. Might as well get comfortable, cause you're not going anywhere for a while." He leaned back against the throne and stretched his legs out. "I have a footstool around here somewhere—hang on." He turned his head to the right, toward a series of small holding cells. "Dog!" he called, and whistled.

The cell door closest to them swung open and a demon emerged slowly, shuffling forward on its hands and knees. It was wearing a garishly bright Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts, the cheery colors standing out in stark contrast to the dark purple bruises and reddish-black cuts that covered its skin. An iron collar, covered in Enochian sigils, was padlocked around his neck. One eye was almost completely swollen shut, and a network of scars obscured his face, but there was no mistaking that it was Crowley. As he crawled over to Lucifer, he kept his head down, not acknowledging Ash with so much as a glance her way. He left a trail of blood on the floor behind him.

Lucifer lifted his feet up and Crowley crawled under them: the devil set his boots down on the demon's back heavily, and Crowley grimaced but didn't make a sound.

Ash shook with rage. She wasn't strong enough to hurt Lucifer—not now, not when it was just the two of them—she knew that, but damn did she want to try. He'd hurt her demon. Humiliated him, no doubt in front of every demon in Hell, just like he'd done before. He'd turned him into his pet—no, not a pet, people cared about those (she should know)—he'd turned him into a joke. Lucifer had taken Crowley, HER DEMON, and make him a PUNCH LINE.

She could feel her vision sharpen to take in small movements. Her heartrate increased along with her breathing. It felt like she'd been given a mega dose of the Leviathan's serum, but this was all organic: The urge to kill, to rip Lucifer to pieces, was almost too great to resist. But that wasn't in the Plan. She had to wait. And so she would wait, like a crocodile lurking on the edge of the river, until it was time to strike. And then she would destroy every atom of his being.

Lucifer's smile broadened. "You don't like my little pet?" He leaned forward to pat Crowley's head condescendingly. "But I have him trained so well."

He flicked his wrist and a glass appeared in his hand, full of amber fluid. Ash could smell it from where she sat: It was Crowley's favorite scotch.

"You're awfully worked up about this 'end of the world' business. But it's like I said before: People are terrible. Dad might've made them in His image, but He's a huge dick-all he did was crank out a few billion more assholes, just like him. He could have made a world where people didn't have to suffer. He could have created life-forms that don't need to kill each other to survive, but no—every living thing depends on some other living thing dying so that it can keep living." He took a long drink and glared at what remained in his glass until it refilled itself. "You're a smart kid, Ash. We can fix His mistakes. You can make a world you want to live in."

Ash stared at a point just to the side of Lucifer's ear, unable to look directly at him or Crowley without screaming. "I like the world I've got," she said, voice wavering as she attempted to maintain control.

Lucifer snorted derisively. "Yeah, right. You think those lumbering Neanderthals are the greatest thing since multi-cellular organisms. You think, because they fight monsters—because they fight me-they're the 'good guys.'" He leaned forward, and his eyes became more snake-like. "They're just as rotten as every other stinking meat-suit up there. My buddy Sammy? You didn't see him on demon blood. You didn't see him traipsing around without his soul, ready to sacrifice anyone or anything as long as it would accomplish his goal. And your little man-toy—don't even get me started. Forty years in Hell, and most of that was spent torturing other souls. He was our top guy down here. A lot of demons, they do their jobs and do them well. But Dean…He took real pride in his work. From what I hear, he was the best of the best—because he liked it. He loved it. Did you ever wonder why he's continued to hunt all these years? It's not out of some misguided sense of 'duty' to his father or Sam. If he really wanted to save people, there are a million other ways he could go about it—safer, easier ways. Dean Winchester hunts because he likes to kill. And he can get away with killing monsters—they're not humans, no one misses them. He's a hero for killing them. But deep down, it's not about saving people. It's not about being a hero. It's about taking lives."

Ash was now staring directly into his eyes: She felt like she couldn't look away, as if she'd been hypnotized. The things he said…Maybe it was the way he said them, or maybe he was using his mojo on her, but it felt like every word he said was the truth.

"So, here's the deal," he said, breaking eye contact to lean back again. "I'm going to leave you here while I go kill all your little friends. Once all of my brothers and sisters are dead, I'll come back for you, and we'll give this whole thing another go. I'll need to possess you to do that, but at that point I doubt you'll mind—it's not like you'll have anyone left to fight for."

Ash broke out of her rage-filled haze for a moment. "Possess me?"

Lucifer took a sip of his drink. "You're strong, but you aren't that strong. You're more of an…Amplifier. I can destroy the world on my own, no problem: I may have a little help from those putrid little demons I created, but let's face it—I'm the brains and the brawn of this operation. But I can't create. You can—or rather, you'll be able to once I possess you. And don't worry about exploding—you're a 'clean' vessel, so you're safe. That's why I had to leave those instructions about not killing people or having sex with them."

'I' had to leave those instructions. Her eyes widened. She could see Crowley react to his words as well, his posture stiffening and his head turning slightly. She played the words back over in her head: 'I' had to leave those instructions.

"What are you talking about?" Ash asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

The Devil's grin, already wide, threatened to split his face in half (if only it would, Ash thought). "The instructions I gave to Agnes Nutter. You didn't think she got those visions all by herself, did you?"

He slid his legs off of Crowley's back and stood up, casually booting the demon to the side as he moseyed toward Ash. "I had to tell someone about you. Agnes was a powerful witch; it was easy to get inside her head. I showed her what I knew: How you'd be created, and what you would do for me. I knew that all of Heaven and Earth would try to stop you, though, so I needed to embellish a little. I told her that you could also destroy me. I showed her a false prophecy to protect you from the angels and others who wanted me to fail."

"You're lying," Crowley hissed, his voice dry and raspy from lack of use.

"What's the matter, Crowley? Can't abide the fact that your largest endeavor has all been for nothing? That you've essentially caused your own destruction?" He took a step away from Ash, toward the demon. "Or that the only being that ever loved you died for no reason?"

Crowley growled. Ash looked momentarily lost.

Lucifer spun again, turning to face Ash. "Did he not tell you about her? The so-called 'fallen angel' he blackmailed into selling herself to him? You'd think he'd at least mention your mother after all these years." He shrugged. "But, then again—demon. I guess it's true, then, that he never really cared about her at all. What was her name…Marian, I believe?"

Crowley was seething, his eyes burning red. Ash, on the other hand, leaned forward, intrigued. She had never heard her mother's name before. For just a moment, the fact that they were powerless to stop the end of the world didn't bother her. All that mattered was that one word: Marian.

The Devil smiled and winked at her, and she went back to feeling powerless.

"Crowley will have plenty of time to tell you about her while I'm gone. Nothing like the Apocalypse to start a little demon-daughter bonding time, eh?" He flicked his wrist, and Crowley went flying back into his cell, hitting the far wall with a solid 'thunk' as the barred door slammed shut and locked itself. Before Ash could so much as blink, she was also flying into a cell, though she stopped before she slammed into the wall. Enochian handcuffs appeared around her wrists, and Enochian shackles tightened around her ankles. The cell door shut and locked itself from the outside, and Lucifer's head appeared on the other side of the grating.

"See you on the other side, kid. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a world to destroy." He saluted, and was gone.

The throne room was silent. Ash sat with her back against cold concrete, hugging her knees. Her mind was completely occupied by two thoughts: One, everything I've done and worked toward my entire life has been for nothing; I can't stop Lucifer, and everyone is going to die—Sam and Dean and Crowley and Castiel—and there's nothing I can do to stop it. And two, Marian. Her name is Marian. She had no concept of time, or how long she spent wallowing in self-pity before the silence was broken.

"Well, that's a bummer," someone who was not Crowley said. They sounded even more hoarse than him, like they hadn't used their voice, apart from screaming, in months.

Ash picked her head up. She knew Lucifer would have left demons behind to guard her, but this didn't sound like a demon. She was pretty sure it was coming from another cell. "Who are you?"

"That would be Gabriel," Crowley said from her other side.

"Gabriel," Ash repeated. She'd heard about a Gabriel. "Asshole Gabriel?"

"Archangel Gabriel," the voice corrected. He was quiet for a moment, then added: "But I suppose 'asshole' fits as well. So, now that your dreams are crushed, what's plan 'B?'"

Metal hit metal with a loud 'clang' from Crowley's cell as he hit the bars with his shackles. "There is no plan 'B,' you halfwit tree-topper! Ash was always the only plan! Unless you have any bright ideas?"

The room fell silent again. Ash resumed thinking about her imminent failure. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Crowley started to laugh.

It was not a sane laugh.

"We don't need a plan 'B.' Plan 'A' is still going to work."

"Sure, if you want to kill yourself," Gabriel said. "Luci wasn't lying: Weren't you listening? He made up the part about her being able to kill him."

"He made it up, but that doesn't mean it's not true," Crowley said.

"Uh, actually—"

"Lucifer said that possessing Ash would amplify his power and hers. There's no reason to think that wouldn't apply to anyone else who possessed her, too."

Gabriel thought for a moment. "You're still looking at an insane amount of power to go up against him. You know he's been stealing my Grace, using it to make himself even stronger—"

"Yes, I know. And you're next to useless."

"You want to possess her." Gabriel coughed and took in a wheezing breath. "It won't be enough."

"No. But I've got a plan now, and it will work."

"Does this plan involve a way to get out of here?"

"In a minute." Crowley was quiet for a moment, steeling himself for the one Talk with Ash he'd avoided her whole life. There was no sense prolonging the inevitable, though, and there was still the Devil to kill. "She wasn't really a fallen angel. Lucifer is a fallen angel, and she was nothing like him. She'd been an angel once, but she sort of…Sauntered vaguely downwards. She was almost entirely human when I met her. A hunter, too, just like Moose and Squirrel."

Ash turned toward Crowley's cell, scooting as far over as she could. It took her a moment to realize that he was talking about her mother, and now she was determined not to miss a word. All she knew about her mother was what the Prophecy said: Crowley had shut down all questions about her quite thoroughly when she was a child, making it clear that the topic was not up for discussion, ever.

"She didn't get on very well with the people Upstairs. About…Sixty years ago, give or take a decade, there was talk about starting Armageddon. Everyone, Above and Below, was in on it: Lucifer was going to rise and fight Michael, the seas were going to boil over, blah, blah, blah. You know how it is. A few billion humans would die, as would much of the other life on Earth, but the higher-ups say that's the cost of doing business and it can't be helped. Well, Marian didn't like that at all. She said that the angels were there to protect the planet, not destroy it. She got a few of her rebellious little friends together—including Castiel, by the way—and derailed the whole thing.

"The angels were pissed. They threw most of the offenders in 'angel jail', wiped Cassie's mind clean, and banished your mother to Earth as a human. But she still had a bit of angel in her, and it was enough to catch my attention regarding this bloody Prophecy business." Chains jingled as he ran his hand across his face. "She loved animals. More than people, I think. Sometimes I wonder if that's why you're able to shapeshift—maybe she passed that on to you, in a more…Physical sense."

Ash was hanging on his every word, barely even breathing. She couldn't describe the way she was feeling in that moment, only that she needed to know more.

"You look just like her," Crowley said. He sounded pained, almost angry. "It's bad enough that you make me feel; you have to have her face, too…Dealing with you as a human is torture, and not the fun kind." He paused. "Lucifer was right about one thing: She was the only person who ever truly cared about me. Aside from you, of course."

Ash felt…Things. Lots of things. She was frustrated that she'd gone her whole life without knowing about her mother. She felt guilty that she'd caused Crowley so much pain just by existing: Every time he looked at her, he was just reminded of what he'd lost—the one being in all of Creation that had loved him, and maybe the only one he cared about, as well.

He cared about her. She'd always known that was why he wouldn't talk about her, but to hear him actually talk about it…Ash had always loved Crowley, but right now the word 'love' didn't seem sufficient. 'Adoration,' maybe. She was as enthusiastic about him as a dog greeting its owner after a months-long absence. If she had been in dog-form at that moment, her tail would have wagged so hard it would have sprained itself.

Crowley could feel her love, and it made his skin crawl. He wanted to gouge his eyes out with rusty nails and rip his teeth out with a plumber's wrench. On the other hand, it was nice to feel loved…

"What did you do?!"

A demon burst into the throne room, teeth bared, drenched in sweat. Crowley recognized him as Columbus, a sycophantic ass who'd quickly risen in Lucifer's ranks. Evidently, being a higher-up meant staying behind to guard the Nephilim.

"What did you do, Crowley?!" Columbus repeated. "Why do I feel—" He scratched at his arms and chest, shaking his head. "Why do I feel?" He noticed Ash in the next cell over. "It's you, isn't it? You're the Nephilim." He scratched the back of his neck, then his arms. He stepped from foot to foot, unable to hold still for more than a few seconds at a time. "Huh. That's a disappointment—thought you'd be hotter." He stuck his face right up against the bars. "What are you doing to me?"

Ash stared back at the demon. This is why Crowley told me about my mom, she realized. He knew I would get emotional, and it would affect our guard. That's…The only reason he told me.

It was disappointing, in a way, that he'd only told her in order to use her. Then again, she understood why he'd never wanted to talk about her. The worst thing for a demon was to feel things.

Columbus was feeling things. But he was fighting it. "Lucifer said not to talk to you. But you…You're doing something. Stop it!"

Ash smiled. Crowley was the cleverest demon she'd ever known, and she wasn't just thinking it because he'd raised her. He really was just that awesome.

Columbus slammed his palms against the door. "It's not fair! I shouldn't have been the one to die! I don't belong in Hell!"

Ash blinked. "What?"

The demon blinked back. "What?" He shook his head, trying to clear the very human memory of being collected by a hellhound at the age of 30, a depressed, flabby, pimpled virgin, all because he'd sold his soul to save his high school sweetheart—a sweetheart who'd been dying from a rare and chemo-resistant form of brain cancer. She'd been battling it for years, and he'd been by her side every step of the way, through every high and low. Her family was very religious, as was she, and she'd told him it was important that she wait until marriage. Well, fine; she was worth the wait. She gave awesome blowjobs, and that was almost as good as the real thing, right? He'd gone to a community college to stay close to her, instead of going to one of the Ivy League schools he'd been accepted to—but it was worth it to be there for her. When the doctor had told her she had months to live, he'd called up his English professor, who seemed to have a thing for the occult, and the man (who was really a demon, but Columbus hadn't known that at the time) had told him how to make a crossroads deal. He'd done it without hesitation: The love of his life would be cured and live a long, healthy life, and in ten years the demon would collect his soul. At the age of twenty, ten years was a lifetime away, and hardly mattered at all. So he'd made the deal.

Being cancer-free gave his girlfriend an all new outlook on life. On her 21st birthday, which she hadn't expected to be alive to see, she went out with her girlfriends, got completely wasted, and hooked up with a random guy. The next day, she continued to enjoy her new lease on life: She broke up with Columbus, made plans to move to California (from Minnesota) so she could try her luck in the film industry, and decided that Jesus really didn't care about pre-marital sex, so her previous night's tryst was perfectly acceptable.

Young, naïve, love-struck Columbus did not take this well. He may have been walking and breathing for the next ten years, but he was hardly alive. He got a job at a gas station and took comfort in junk food and alcohol, and though he was fun at parties he became almost unbearable to be around sober. He practically ensured that no one else would ever want a relationship with him.

It was almost a relief when the hellhound came for him.

"She didn't love me," he whimpered. "She never loved me." He suddenly seemed to remember himself. "Why do I—Remember?" He scratched his throat until it bled. "Why do I—Feel?"

"Let me out," Ash said, getting to her feet.

The demon shook his head. "Are you nuts? Lucifer would roast me—" His father died in a car accident when he was eight. Dad had been drinking, and it was raining, and the deer had come out of nowhere. Dad swerved, tried to protect Columbus in the passenger seat, and ended up taking his own life. Columbus had sat next to him, pinned by his stuck seatbelt and the airbag, and watched him die before the paramedics arrived (it was a rural road, took almost an hour for a motorist to even come across them, then another half hour for the ambulance to pull up). He'd sat in the car with his dead dad, crying until he couldn't cry anymore, and all the adults wanted to know if he was okay—no, he was not okay. He would never be okay. He'd just watched his father die, seen him take his last breath, and how was any of that okay? There had been many days in the torture pits, before he'd become a demon, that all they'd shown him was his father's last moments. He'd watched him die again, and again, and again, and—

Columbus screamed and dropped to the floor, curling up in the fetal position.

"Columbus," Crowley said, trying to bring his attention back.

The demon whined pathetically. "No, no, no, make it stop, make it stop—"

"Columbus. Unlock all the cells."

"Not my daddy. Please for the love of Hell not my daddy again!"

"Open the doors, and the feelings will fade."

Columbus snapped his head up. "No more feeling?"

"No more."

The demon scrambled to his feet and fumbled with the keys. He unlocked Ash's door first, then moved on to Crowley. As soon as the door was open, Crowley grabbed him and reached for the angel blade he knew was stashed in his belt. High on emotion and memory, Columbus didn't stand a chance. Crowley stabbed him through his chest, and the demon sparked out, dead.

Crowley grabbed Columbus's keys and found the one that opened his shackles, then moved on to Ash's cell to undo hers. She wanted to hug him, but knew that would be pushing things too far.

"You look terrible," she said.

Crowley laughed. With a snap of his fingers, his injuries healed and his garish Hawaiian tourist outfit was replaced by his Armani suit. "Right. Let's get us an archangel."

He opened Gabriel's cell, and Ash got her first look at him. He had fared worse than Crowley: Both eyes were swollen and purple; his skin was covered in a network of scars and bruises, new ones layered over old ones, a three-dimensional souvenir of Lucifer's attention. He looked like he'd been decapitated and had his head sewn back on, from all the times the Devil had slit his throat for his Grace. It was difficult for him to stand, and once he got to his feet he shuffled slowly, lurching like a zombie.

"Luci may have some of my Grace stashed somewhere, but I'll be damned if I know where." Gabriel coughed. "Pardon the expression."

"Better start looking, then," Crowley said. He ran his hand along the wall, and a small panel popped open. It was empty. "Damn."

He moved quickly, checking a number of hidden panels he'd installed when he was king. None of them yielded anything helpful, aside from a bottle of scotch.

"It's almost as if he wanted us to escape," Gabriel mused, poking around a shelf full of contract files. "Didn't give us any challenge at all."

"He doesn't think we're a threat. He doesn't believe Ash can kill him," Crowley said. He poured himself a drink and offered one to Gabriel; to his surprise, the angel accepted. "Never thought you birds went in for this stuff."

Gabriel smiled and clinked his glass. "Never thought you snakes could get sentimental."

"Oh, that's just Ash. She brings out the best in me, you know; it's terrible."

"And yet you're not dissolving in agony like that guard."

Crowley sniffed disdainfully. "Please—I'm Crowley." He opened a trick panel in the wall, sliding into a room that no one else should have known existed. Inside was a warded chest, inaccessible to angels or demons.

"You must feel some effect from her," Gabriel pressed.

He grimaced and turned away from the angel. "It can be…Unpleasant at times," he admitted. "But if being a demon was fun, all the kids would be doing it. This one's all you, Ash. We're locked out."

Ash opened the chest cautiously: Inside was a larger version of an angel blade, and a jar that glowed blue. She removed both.

"Guess he was saving some for a rainy day, the bastard." Gabriel took the sword, holding it up for inspection.

"What is it?"

"An archangel sword. I lost mine millennia ago." He made a complicated gesture with his hands, and the sword disappeared somewhere on his person. Then he took the jar of Grace. With reverence, he opened the lid and let it flow back inside of him. Instantly, his eyes lit up and his injuries healed. "Ah, that's more like it!"

Crowley edged back from him, holding Ash in front of him like a shield. He had been completely relaxed around him before, when the archangel hadn't posed a threat to him: now, though, he was staring down the barrel of a nuclear-powered Colt.

"Right. Great," Crowley said. "You're all recharged now, and ready to kick your brother's ass?"

"Well, partially recharged. Lucifer's been using me like a steroid for a long time now; I'll need a lot more grace to equal up to him."

Crowley started to relax.

"Course, I'm not useless—I can still cut down demons like blades of grass."

"Ah. Of course." Crowley gripped Ash's arm a little tighter and backed out of the secret room.

"So, let's get this party started!" Gabriel was suddenly far too close for the demon's comfort, holding his hand out toward Ash's forehead.

Crowley whipped her out of the way. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Gabriel blinked in surprise. "Giving her some more mojo. Lucifer only healed her enough to keep her on her feet, but she's a long way from full-power. You're gonna need all the help you can get out there."

"Oh. Alright."

Ash was pulled back in front of Crowley, and Gabriel's hand returned to her forehead. She tensed as he made contact.

"It's alright, Princess," Crowley murmured.

"It's just like being healed," Gabriel said. "Won't hurt at all."

She felt the grace flow through her, cold and electric, and her tongue tasted like she'd licked a battery. And now, she was…Energized. The grace had sent her from 'okay standing up' to 'full tank of fuel' in a matter of seconds.

Gabriel smiled. "You ready to take on the devil?"

The single most important task you'll ever have, that you've trained your whole life for and couldn't possibly screw up without disappointing the entire planet? The thing that's almost definitely going to kill you? She swallowed hard. "'Course."

They started walking toward the building's exit, Ash between the angel and the demon.

"Scared, Princess?"

She jumped slightly. "No."

He squeezed her shoulder. "It's alright—you may not be human, but you have the emotional capacity of one, and then some. You'd have to be completely delusional not to doubt yourself."

"Ah?"

"You'll be alright, kid. I'll be right there with you."

"Where will we find him?"

"One of Hell's gates."

Gabriel paused and tilted his head back, listening. "Hold on—angel radio. He's at an abandoned Air Force base in Limestone, Maine."

Crowley downed the rest of his scotch.

"The angels are rallying on the far side of the base," Gabriel said. "The Winchesters are with them, along with a few more humans."

"Right. Let them know I have Ash, will you?"

"You're not joining them?"

Crowley gave the archangel a wicked smile. "A demon, popping up in the midst of an angel army? I don't see that going down well, even if we are fighting the same enemy. No, we'll cut around from the back and meet up with you later." He turned to Ash. "Not sure what we're walking in to, exactly, but it isn't going to be friendly. Are you ready?"

"Where the Hell are we?" Dean shouted over the storm.

"Limestone, Maine," Castiel shouted back.

They were in an old aircraft hangar, empty save for a dilapidated old jet and a few old Jeeps the Air Force hadn't deemed worthy of salvaging. Almost a hundred angels filled the space, in addition to the handful of humans they'd brought with them. The majority of the angels wore white (which was the angelic equivalent of an army uniform, Cas informed them), though some still had their regular 'human' outfits, like jeans and suits. Cherubs were easy to pick out among the crowd as they inspected their massive bows before the battle. It was impossible to see anything through the windows outside, but they could hear hail pounding on the roof, along with a steady roll of thunder.

"Sun should be up by now," Sam said.

"It's the darkness," Castiel replied. "The final plague."

The angels' heads raised in unison, sensing a new threat around them.

"Sam. Dean. Get down."

Glass showered down on them as demons without bodies burst through the windows. The larger hangar doors bowed inward as demons on the ground pushed against them with their power. Angels pushed back with their own power, and cherubs fired arrows at the black wispy forms above them.

"You see the green Jeep?" Castiel asked, shielding his friends from the glass. "It's filled with holy water in pesticide applicators. Think you can get to it?"

"No problem," Sam said.

The doors burst inward, and demons swarmed inside.

"Maybe a bit of a problem," Sam amended.

Angels and demons were spread out across the whole property, scattered amongst buildings and the open training grounds and airfields. Humans fired demon-killing bullets and devil's trap bullets and sprayed holy water at them. Bodies of all breeds littered every available surface, including the roof tops. Rain continued to pound down on them, but at least the hail had let up some. Occasionally, a chunk of ice the size of a golf ball or marble would strike someone on the head and leave them with a decent gash, or even knock them out. The darkness was relentless: They couldn't even see the clouds above them, and there was no sign of either sun or moon. Out in the middle of the runway, it was darker than fighting in a sewer (and all the hunters had done that at least once in their careers): for the supernatural contenders, this didn't pose a huge challenge, but it was proving difficult for the humans. Dean hotwired one of the old Jeeps and got the headlights going, and though the light drew demons toward them, at least they could see them coming.

A sort of chain of protection formed automatically: Jody and Donna watched out for Claire and Alex; Sam watched out for Jody and Donna; Dean watched out for Sam; and Castiel watched out for Dean. The rest of the hunters were separated from them, and passing angels informed them that Garth had taken charge of the others in an old dormitory, launching holy water balloons out the windows onto any demon that tried to get inside the building on foot. Demons that attempted to blink directly inside found themselves in one of many hastily-drawn devil's traps, or were instantly deflected back by warding. The demons were now attempting to rip the roof off of the building, and more angels had gathered to stop them.

Gabriel appeared behind Castiel, skewering a demon that had gotten too close. "Miss me?"

Castiel threw another demon back with his grace. "Hello, brother."

"Oh great, you," Dean groaned.

"Good to see you too, Dean."

"I thought you were dead?"

"Very nearly. Sorry to disappoint."

Dean's jaw clenched tightly. "So where have you been hiding?"

"Hell. It wasn't exactly the vacation I had in mind. Your demon friend got me out, by the way."

"We're not friends." Dean dodged a falling chunk of metal, backing into Cas. "What about Ash? Did you see her?"

"Yeah; Crowley's on his way with her now."

"She's with Crowley?" Dean groaned.

"Yes. She is…Very much with Crowley."

"Hang on—what do you mean by that?"

Thousands of demons covered the air field, swarming toward the angels. A shadow swooped above them and dipped down, a black body against a black sky. Hail bounced off its hide and lightning danced around it. When the dragon got close enough to a demon, the demon exploded. She charged toward the old hangar that seemed to be the center of the fight, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.

A bolt of lightning struck the far end of the building, bursting through the roof and striking the ground. Angels and demons alike were knocked off their feet and raised their arms to protect themselves from falling scraps of metal. On the opposite side, Sam and Dean felt their hearts stutter. Sam fell off the top of a Jeep, pitching down onto Donna, who was crouched behind the car reloading her gun. Bullets scattered across the concrete. Dean, who was standing in front of the Jeep, fell back and smacked his head on the front bumper, narrowly avoiding stabbing himself in the thigh with his angel blade.

"The Hell was that?!" Jody shouted, running to check on Sam and Donna.

"Lucifer," Cas replied, dispatching a demon on his way over to her. "He's made a rather over-dramatic entrance, if you ask me."

"Great," Dean growled, staggering back to his feet. He rubbed the back of his head, where a large lump was forming. "Tell Gabriel to get his ass back over here and kill the fucker."

But Gabriel was already aware: The smoke had just begun to clear around the devil when his brother appeared behind him. Lucifer turned before he could take a stab at him, drawing his own archangel blade and fighting back.

"You're not surprised to see me," Gabriel said as they parried back and forth.

Lucifer shrugged, then sent a pulse of energy toward him that sent him flying backward, bowling over a cluster of demons. "A bit. I figured the girl would escape, but I must admit I thought she'd leave you to rot. The Winchesters aren't your biggest fans; I assume they've told her about you."

Gabriel killed the demons he'd fallen on and launched himself back at the devil. "Yeah, well, apparently you're an even bigger asshole than I am."

"What about that sniveling little demon? Did you at least kill him?"

Their swords clashed together and stuck, each archangel pressing with all his might. Gabriel began to slide backward. "The guard?"

"No—Crowley! I assume you smote him as soon as you were free?"

Gabriel ground his teeth together as the blades drew closer to his chest. "What's that thing the humans say? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend?'"

Lucifer barked out a harsh laugh. "You don't have friends." A troop of archers fired at him, distracting him enough that Gabriel was able to unlock his sword and start another assault on him. "Crowley is no different than any other demon—a self-serving coward. He's not going to be of any use to you now. You should have killed him when you had the chance."

Gabriel cocked his head to the side, like he was listening for something. "Are you sure about that?"

The dragon dropped through the hole in the ceiling and dove straight for Lucifer. Gabriel leapt out of the way and the devil swept his blade up, catching it on her teeth as she tried to bite him. He threw her off to the side and she skidded to a halt in a pile of debris and demons. As she scrambled and flapped her wings, the demons screamed: Some flashed out, while others exploded into ashes. Ash roared and charged him again, throwing her power forward. Lucifer pushed back harder, propelling her across the hangar and narrowly missing the group of humans. Gabriel attacked again, giving the dragon time to recover.

"Ash!" Dean shouted, stabbing a demon in the chest as he ran toward her.

"Stay back," Sam ordered the others, running to follow his brother.

Ash got to her feet and shifted to human; she snapped her fingers and a dress appeared on her. Sam and Dean skidded to a halt, followed by Castiel.

"Gabriel said Crowley was with her."

"He is," Cas said.

"But I don't…Oh no. No fucking way—"

"Hello, boys." Ash's eyes flickered red.

"Crowley," Dean snarled, raising his knife. "Get the hell out of her!"

Ash raised her hands in surrender and took several steps back, keeping an eye on the weapon. Her eyes returned to their natural blue as she moved. "It's okay, Dean. He knows what he's doing."

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd really let Ash speak just then or if he was just imitating her. He couldn't bring himself to trust Crowley: the angel blade flew to her throat. "Get. Out."

Her eyes turned red again. "Careful, Squirrel. That thing will kill her, too."

Dean growled and lowered his weapon. There was more than one way to get rid of a demon. "Fine. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-"

"Oh, real mature," Crowley grumbled.

Ash's eyes flashed blue. "Stop it!" she snapped.

"Dean," Castiel said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I understand that Crowley possessing Ash is disturbing for you, but he wouldn't do this for no reason. Being inside her must be incredibly painful for him; other demons have died just trying to possess her."

Dean scowled. Did he really have to say 'being inside her'? Still, they were in the middle of a war; maybe he should listen to Castiel's advice.

Cas turned to address the demon. "Look, would you mind stepping into a different…Vessel, for the time being? There are plenty of bodies to choose from. I believe it would make Dean more comfortable and save a lot of time that we don't have."

Ash's eyes flipped back to red. "Fine. Since you asked so nicely." She gave a little mock bow and sank to her knees. Red smoke poured out of her mouth and slipped into the corpse of a recently possessed man. "Better?" the man said, rising to his feet and stepping beside Ash.

Dean glared back at Crowley. He could see the uncomfortable expression on his brother's face, and knew that Sam wanted to trust Castiel's judgement here; but this was Ash, and Crowley had freaking possessed her, and that was so many levels of wrong that he just wanted to blow his damn head off. Crowley had just surpassed Lucifer at the top of his Must Kill list.

Ash sagged now that Crowley was out of her. Dean moved forward to help her, but Castiel put his arm out to block him, shaking his head in warning. Instead, Crowley helped her to her feet and let her lean against him. If Dean had been a cartoon character, literal daggers would have come out of his eyes and stabbed the demon in his stupid borrowed meat-suit face.

"Easy, tiger," Crowley purred, his temporary face twisting into his usual smirk. "We're here to kill Lucifer, remember?" He cocked his head to the side. "It really bothers you, doesn't it? Me being inside her." He couldn't resist parroting Castiel's unintentionally sexual words; his smile broadened as Dean's glare sharpened. "Never pinned you as the jealous type."

Now Sam and Cas both had to hold Dean back from attacking him.

"What's the play, Crowley?" Castiel asked, trying to draw everyone's attention back to the battle they were currently fighting. A stray demon got too close to their little pow-wow and Sam disarmed him, then stabbed him in the neck.

"Heaven and Hell will unite as one," he quoted. "The answer's in the prophecy." He decided not to tell the others that Lucifer had made the whole thing up—they didn't have time to argue.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "Yes, well. Unless you have a means of converting all of your demons back to your side, I don't see that happening."

Crowley shook his head. "Think on a smaller scale, Castiel. A much more…Personal scale."

Castiel stared blankly back at him.

Crowley sighed. "You and me, Feathers. United as one with the Nephilim, just like old Agnes said." He gestured to Ash. "Joint possession, or whatever you folks like to call it that makes it sound all puppies and rainbows."

"Both of us, using her as a vessel? It won't work. A Nephilim can't be controlled like that-it's too powerful. Logically, you should be dead or at least completely insane, like every other demon that's touched her. As for me, adding my Grace to her could make either one of us explode."

"Number one—I'm not every other demon. And number two—No one is going to explode. She's a 'pure' vessel, remember? We can pos…Inhabit her together, letting her maintain control while she uses our power to her advantage."

The angel's eyebrows shot up. "The rules. This is what they're for?"

Crowley shrugged. "What do you say? Bet you never thought you'd have a three-way with a demon."

Castiel huffed in agitation. "Why must you make it sound so…Sexual?"

The demon looked proud of himself. "Because it gets such a rise out of Squirrel." He winked at Dean, who had gone rather red and had a large vein popping out of his head. He was holding his blade so tightly that his fingers had gone white. "Come on, Castiel; Gabriel can't hold him off forever."

"Oh come on," Dean said. "You're sayin' the only way to end this is for both of you to—to—possess her?"

"How are you alive?" Sam asked. "Why doesn't she affect you?"

"I…React to her the same as other demons, but I've built up a tolerance. If I feel like I'm dying, I can always pull out." He shrugged and shot Dean a sly smile.

Dean muttered something under his breath that sounded like "dick."

Castiel turned toward the other end of the compound as he felt a surge in Lucifer's power. They were out of time. "You have to consent," he said, turning back to Ash. "It's an angel thing. I need your permission."

Ash blinked. "Yes."

"Cas, wait," Dean said. "What if he's wrong?"

Castiel gave him a reassuring smile. "He's not. Now that he's said it, I understand that there is no other way. This is how it was always supposed to be."

"What?! No. You're talking about sharing a vessel with a demon. You're talking about using Ash as a vessel. Letting Crowley possess her."

"Dean," Ash said. "I'm safer with them than I am without them. I know you don't trust Crowley, and I don't expect you to; but trust Castiel. Please."

The battle was closing in on them. Castiel grabbed a demon by the head and used his grace to kill it; Crowley threw a batch of demons back with his energy, impaling each one on iron rebar about twenty feet off the ground. They howled in rage and writhed as they tried to blink away.

Dean broke past Cas and his brother, closing the gap between himself and Ash. Crowley stepped to the side as Dean approached, staying just out of stabbing range.

"Ash, I—" Dean trailed off, unable to complete any sentence that was in danger of involving feelings. So instead of talking, he kissed her, pulling her against him; one arm around her waist, his other hand against the back of her neck.

Ash couldn't just smell the fear on him, she could taste it. But he also tasted like Dean, and he was warm and she could feel his soul burning so brightly, and it felt better than all the grace in Heaven. She melted into him until an explosion nearby snapped her back to reality, and she pulled away from him, turning her head toward the danger. Half a dozen angels were erupting, their essences shooting out of their vessels. Lucifer.

"Alright, wrap it up lover-boy," Crowley said, grabbing Ash's arm and hauling her farther away from him. He gave Castiel another little bow. "After you, Feathers."

Castiel's mouth opened, and blue light streamed out of his vessel and into Ash. The vessel crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Crowley followed suit a moment later, giving Dean one last mischievous look before he did.

Ash fell to her hands and knees, then flopped onto her side. Her limbs twitched as the entities inside her scrambled to find some semblance of control.

Look, it's not that difficult, Crowley chided. Just don't touch anything, for Hell's sake. All you're going to do is project your energy outwards—ouch!—not at me, bird-brain! If she gets knocked out, then you take control. Understand?

She felt the angel's presence retreat, and realized she had control of her body again. His energy was still there, buzzing through her blood like an electrical current. It felt odd against Crowley's energy: It was ice against fire, unpleasant but not intolerable (which was how it felt, in general, having an angel and a demon stuffed inside of her). She could feel Crowley's pain as well, a constant tingly feeling like being stabbed with needles, and it seemed to get worse the longer he possessed her.

Right. Let's kill the devil.

The devil came to them. Ash had just managed to shift back into a dragon and spread her wings when Lucifer appeared in front of her. She reared back in surprise and he shoved her back with his grace, sending her crashing into the wall.

"Do you know what I realized while I was waiting for you to attack me again?" Lucifer said conversationally. He strolled forward, waving a hand to pin Sam and Dean against the Jeep. Any angel that got too close to him was instantly disintegrated. "I've only given you nine plagues. Nine out of ten; isn't that a shame? I'd hate to leave you one short."

Ash righted herself and charged him. What was the tenth plague? Something about death; someone died, didn't they?

Death of the firstborn son, Castiel informed her.

"Death of the firstborn son," Lucifer said aloud. "Now, I'm not like Dad—I'm not entirely unreasonable, you know. I'm going to rewrite the entire universe, so there's really no need to kill every firstborn on Earth; it's a bit redundant at this point." Ash reached him and lashed out to bite him; he vanished, appearing behind her, and stabbed his blade through her tail. The tip of it came out the other end and stuck in the concrete, pinning her in place. She spun and roared, shooting pains running up her tail and spine, and shoved out at him with her newly enhanced power. He batted the energy away like it was a light breeze and watched as she tried frantically to pull the blade out of the floor with her teeth.

"Now, who here could possibly be a firstborn son?" Lucifer said smoothly, his lips pulled tight in a humorless, snakelike grin. "Anyone know? Anyone?"

Sam struggled furiously in his invisible bonds. "Don't!"

"I know what you're thinking," he continued. His voice took on a mocking tone, pretending to be Ash. "'But Dean cares about me! How could I ever lose him?' Well I've got news for you, sister: You never had him. You are what he kills. You will always be what he kills. He's kept you around this long because you're useful to him. You get that, right?" His hand tightened into a fist in the air, and her throat constricted, cutting off her airway. Crowley and Castiel fought to keep her breathing. "Let's say, against all probability, you defeat me. That's your one purpose in life, right? The one thing you were 'made' to do? So what happens when that's gone? Still think he's going to want you around?" He pulled the sword out of her tail and stabbed through her wing, earning a snarl of pain. "Dean practically radiates lust, yet you're terrified of anything sexual—Crowley's fault, no doubt, for giving you those uptight rules. So tell me, what use will he have for you when this is over? When you're no good to him as a monster or a human?"

Ash's wing tore as she tried to break free of the sword. I never planned on making it out of here alive anyway, she growled to Lucifer. But I'm not gonna let anything happen to Dean or Sam.

"Well…Agree to disagree on that one."

"Ash—" Dean called out, and Lucifer cut him off, slamming his head back against the car and stunning him.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, fighting like mad to move against Lucifer's energy.

Dean opened his eyes, looking dazed. "Sam…"

Ash ripped her wing free, and the devil's energy punched her in the throat. Lucifer was on her instantly, but she shifted into a snake and sank her fangs into his forearm. He hissed in pain, grabbed her behind her head, and ripped her off of him, tearing his flesh as he did so. The wound healed, and Ash shifted again, back into a dragon, and they wrestled back and forth.

"And God struck all first-born in the land of Egypt, from the first-born of King Pharaoh, down to the first-born of a captive in the dungeon!"

Ash felt when it happened. Something in her soul snapped and broke, and she knew he was gone. The feeling was so painful that she went limp, and Lucifer pinned her easily, his knee in her long neck and his sword at her throat. Sam shouted as Dean dropped, lifeless, beside him: Lucifer's hold on him let up, and he fell to his knees, cradling his brother in his arms. His screams alternated between obscenities aimed at Lucifer and pleas for Dean to live, gradually becoming an incoherent babble of words and sobs. The other humans turned their attention to them to see what the commotion was, leaving themselves vulnerable to attack.

Castiel broke. Ash felt his energy fade as he withdrew into himself.

Pull yourself together, angel, Crowley said. Or do you want him to die for nothing?

She felt his energy return, ice cold and angry. It burned inside her like her own anger and despair. You killed him. You killed my human. MY. HUMAN.

The noise that came out of the dragon started out as a low growl, then built into a screech, culminating in a deafening roar. A wave of overwhelming emotion passed over the entire hangar, bringing with it all the pent-up energy full of sadness and rage. Above it all was something else, something even she didn't know was there, but Castiel and Crowley could feel: Love. Not the sappy kind of love that the cherubs dispensed, but the real, hardcore, 'dog jumping into the river to save its owner's life,' 'mom kills bear with bare hands to protect her child,' 'I'll go to Hell to save my brother' kind of intensive affection. Every demon within fifty feet of her died screaming in agony. The rest were just screaming.

Lucifer was knocked back, surprise flickering across his face before his usual confident expression returned to him.

"Not bad," he said, getting to his feet. He watched Ash right herself and return to a defensive posture, back arched like a cat and teeth bared, her tail flicking behind her. Ash growled and began stalking around him, looking for an opening.

"You have a wicked infestation, you know," he said, eyes narrowing in thought. "I understand the demon problem—can't exactly say 'no' to him—but the angel perplexes me. I can't imagine what would possess you to let him…Well, possess you. Castiel already has a perfectly good vessel. Honestly, brother, going after a demon's sloppy seconds? It's so unlike you."

Go to Hell.

Sloppy seconds? Excuse you, but this is a top-of-the-line devil-killing hybrid, you mangy winged rat, Crowley snapped.

Lucifer smiled. "So feisty." He extended his arms forward and it felt like he was trying to rip her soul out of her body-a feeling like mentally gritting one's teeth popped into her mind, and she realized he was trying to rip the others out of her body. She tried to move, but her limbs were locked in place: all she could do was push back against him.

You took Dean. You're not taking anyone else.

Lucifer's power faltered and she leapt forward, breathing fire to obscure his vision. She felt the bite of his sword in her leg before her front claws connected with his chest, tackling him to the ground. Her teeth sank into his head and neck, and even though she knew it couldn't kill him, she still took pleasure in biting down hard until she felt his skull crack.

The archangel sword plunged up into her gut and she whipped her head back, chunks of flesh stuck to her teeth. Both dragon and devil howled in pain: Ash released him, staggering back, and Lucifer got to his feet, healing himself. Castiel was able to stop the bleeding from Ash's wounds, but it would take more than the grace he had to mend her injuries entirely.

There was a puff of smoke behind Lucifer, and Rowena appeared. He spun to face her.

"Red," Lucifer purred, like a cat who'd just been given a new, obnoxiously squeaky toy and wasn't sure what to make of it. "Haven't I killed you before?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, managing to look embarrassed. "Have you? It happens so often, I tend to lose track after a while. You couldn't tell me what you've done with my son, could you?"

Lucifer smirked. "Crowley's not your son. Not really. You know that, don't you? He hasn't been your son since the day he took that name."

Rowena drew herself up. "I wouldn't expect you to understand a mother's love."

That earned a raised eyebrow. "You tried to kill him. Multiple times."

"Like I said, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

His eye twitched, and he doubled over, dropping his sword. "Aargh! What—what did you do?!"

Rowena smiled brightly. "Don't know what you're talking about, dearie." She darted forward to grab the blade, but he reached out incredibly fast, grabbing her by the throat.

Ash snarled, darting forward and catching him from behind.

I don't think so, Crowley hissed. If anyone gets to kill that bitch, it's me.

Lucifer released Rowena and grappled with the dragon, rolling them across the concrete as they fought for control. Something wasn't going quite right for him: Pain struck him randomly throughout his vessel, but he could feel it deep down in his own essence. It made him clumsy, allowing Ash to get several good bites in before he could heal himself.

Rowena ran to Sam's side, kneeling next to him as he huddled over Dean's body. "Is he…?"

Sam nodded, tears sliding down his cheeks.

She put her hand on his shoulder. "I know this sounds heartless, love, but there'll be plenty of time for that later. There's a war on right now; you need to get up."

He looked up at her in surprise. It was, without question, the gentlest and sincerest she'd ever been. The world was definitely ending.

"He'll be alright here," she said, smiling encouragingly. "Come on; time to save the world. Just another day at work for you, right?" As she helped Sam to his feet, she glanced around, searching. "Where's your angel, anyway? I thought he'd be with you."

"He was. Crowley said they both needed to—to possess Ash," Sam said, choking the word out.

Rowena turned to look at the dragon fighting Lucifer, eyes widening. "Fergus is in that?"

"What did you do to Lucifer?" Sam asked.

Rowena smiled. "I've been working on that little spell for years. It won't last forever, of course: once he figures it out, he'll destroy the hex bags. One of them is just a regular pain spell to set him back a bit. The other…Well, in theory it should bind an angel's grace so he can't use it. Could buy us a little bit of time."

Lucifer punched Ash, sending her crashing across the floor, and Gabriel appeared in front of him, taking the next hit. The archangels clashed, and in his hexed state Lucifer let his brother get a solid strike on him, impaling his leg. Lucifer snarled and threw Gabriel off, the blade ripping his flesh as it left him. Ash ran at him again, and when he raised his sword to strike she shifted, skidding under the blade as a hellhound and smashing into his legs, throwing him off-balance.

"Demons!" Rowena announced, pointing to a nearby hole in the wall. A fresh wave of Lucifer's foot soldiers approached, and the surviving humans and angels turned their attention to the new fight. A familiar snarling sound from an empty space ahead of him alerted Sam to a new threat.

Shit. "Hellhounds!"

Ash looked up at the sound of Sam's voice. The humans wouldn't be able to handle hellhounds on top of everything else: she needed to help them.

Moose is a big boy, he can take care of himself, Crowley said, forcing her attention back to Lucifer and dodging a blow. You kill this one, all of it ends.

Angels can see hellhounds, Castiel reminded her. They'll protect our friends.

"You bitch!" Lucifer snarled, suddenly clear about what Rowena had done. He snapped his fingers and the hex bags she'd hidden on him caught fire, breaking the spells. "That's how you want to do this? Fine. No more holding back."

Every angel in the hangar disintegrated except for Gabriel and Castiel. Evidently they were too much fun to get rid of just yet.

Castiel, for lack of a more apt description, flipped his shit. It took all of Crowley's strength to stop him from flying out of Ash and attacking Lucifer head-on: Ash felt her muscles spasm as the angel and demon fought internally, letting Lucifer slice a decent hole in her shoulder. The pain finally caught Castiel's attention, and he focused back on the task at hand.

As far as the humans were concerned, that was when everything really went to Hell.

There were a few angels still fighting outside the hangar that hadn't been killed, and they flew in to assist Sam and the other hunters, but it wasn't enough. Ash had wiped out many of the demons in the hangar just a moment ago, yet now it was like that never happened—there were millions of souls in Hell, and Lucifer had brought all of them out to play. Rowena managed to hex a few to fight on her side, but there weren't enough hex bags in the world to make a dent on the army before them. The group quickly ran through the last of their ammo, leaving them only their angel blades to fight with.

More hunters ran inside, most already injured and all of them soaked to the bone. A hellhound had ripped a chunk out of Garth's shoulder; Eileen had stopped a knife with the palm of her hand; Charlie had been thrown backwards and had her thigh impaled on a piece of rebar. And everyone had been tossed around, choked, stabbed, and generally gotten the shit beaten out of them, but they were still standing.

Gabriel and Ash weren't faring much better. Lucifer flew up into the sky, the rain and hail ignoring his vessel but pelting down on Gabriel. Ash shifted back into a dragon to catch up to them, and her large surface area was like a magnet for golf-ball sized hailstones. She felt Crowley's power swell, and an energy barrier formed across her back and wings, protecting her from the weather.

Crowley, Castiel said. We have to end this now. The humans won't survive much longer.

Crowley sighed inside her head. Fine. Are you paying attention, Ash?

She dipped under Lucifer to catch Gabriel after a particularly nasty punch. Yes, Crowley.

No matter what happens, I need you to keep fighting. Always. Do you understand? You keep fighting until he's dead.

What's going to—

Keep. Fighting. That's an order, Ash.

Yes. I understand.

Castiel. When we come around to attack again, I need you to touch her soul.

Ash felt the angel's trepidation.

I see. And you will do the same?

Yes.

But won't that destroy you?

Crowley? Ash thought with alarm.

He shrugged mentally. I never liked being King that much, anyway.

Crowley! Ash halted mid-air, but Crowley took control, forcing her up and around to make another pass at Lucifer. The devil got the upper hand against Gabriel, slicing off his sword arm and grazing his chest with the blade, not enough to kill him but enough to open him up. Gabriel plummeted back to Earth.

Keep fighting. Bring her back, Crowley's voice said.

Ash was blown back by another attack from Lucifer, his power like tiny teeth eating away at her scales.

Ready, Feathers? In three…two…one!

She felt like a phone that had been on Low Battery its whole life that had just been plugged into a charger. Everything tingled. Her heart sped up, then slowed way down. Her breathing increased rapidly, then stopped entirely, but she felt fine. She didn't need to breathe anymore. Ash shot forward, feeling the world click together as she released her power outward toward Lucifer. He brought his arms up, shooting his own grace back at her, and the two forces collided with an enormous clap of thunder.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, eyes glowing, as he fought back against the force of the three combined. Ash felt her scales and skin peeling away in layers, but she couldn't break off the attack now. She started to lose vision in her right eye, and she could feel her skin burning away. Remaining airborne was becoming increasingly difficult as the Devil's power sliced through her wings.

"I'm not going to kill you, Ash," Lucifer hissed. "I'm going to free you. You've been under Crowley's control your whole life. Now you listen to those Winchesters. Isn't it time you started thinking for yourself? It will take time to see it—the brainwashing, the conditioning. You'll be angry at first, when I kill him, but you'll understand in time. That's how fucked this universe is—you're being controlled by a demon! I can fix it. We can make a better version. Same with Sam and Dean. You'll never even miss the old ones."

At the mention of Dean, Ash's anger flared, and her energy surged. For the first time since Creation, Lucifer's confidence wavered.

"Ash. You won't survive this," he warned.

Neither will you.

"You don't want to do this."

Shut up, assbutt, Castiel said.

The sense of being peeled alive increased, but so did their energy. Ash's vision went white as her power intensified, and she was hyper aware of Crowley: His mangled soul clung to hers, feeding power into her, but with each passing second more of it was stripped away. The pain wasn't so much physical as it was emotional: As each molecule dissolved, the bits of him that were left were reminded of his worst memories, both on Earth and in Hell, like he was being tortured in the pits all over again. She could feel him dying as if she herself was dying, and if he hadn't ordered her to keep going she would have stopped and found a way to force him to stop. But she had to obey him. Crowley told her to fight, so damn it she was going to fight, and if it killed her then it would be no less than she had expected, anyway.

"You're going to lose, Crowley," Lucifer taunted.

It's funny, Crowley shot back. Even when I lose, I win.

The last bits of Crowley tore away from her soul, and it felt like she'd been ripped open and turned inside out. In a flash of white light, Lucifer broke: He screamed, and his skin cracked like broken glass before shattering, his grace dissipating into the ether.

Castiel released her soul. She could feel his energy waning: He must have used just about all his grace on her. Completely drained, Ash's wings folded and she plummeted to the ground, breaking the concrete floor upon impact. The battle paused upon Lucifer's destruction, and all eyes were turned toward the space he'd previously occupied. Gabriel ran over to greet her, arm reattached but his other wounds still open.

Ash realized there was something wrong with the air. Was Lucifer still alive? The air was vibrating around her; maybe it was something to do with his grace. And…She could hear people talking, but not the people who were near her. They were quiet, far away voices, and they sounded confused.

What's happening?

"Heaven has fallen," Gabriel announced.

Right: Angels were the batteries that kept Heaven running, and without them all the souls in Heaven would become lost ghosts on Earth. What was more concerning, however, was that Heaven wasn't the only place the angels kept going.

"There are only a dozen or so angels left alive, thanks to Lucifer. And now that Lucifer's gone, none of us has the mojo to keep things going…"

The ground shook, and the air filled with unearthly shrieks and howls.

Gabriel groaned. "And here comes Hell, right on schedule."

There are things in Hell that are worse than demons. Things that Lucifer had experimented with before he made demons; things God decided were too unholy to roam the Earth; things that gave demons nightmares. And now they were all coming to the land of the living. The surviving humans and angels clustered together nervously. The surviving demons formed their own clusters, muttering nervously to themselves and gripping their weapons tightly. A few tried to smoke out and retreat to Hell, only to rebound back to their meat-suits when they discovered there was no Hell to return to.

"We need to restore the angels now," Gabriel said.

Castiel exited Ash's body and returned to his own vessel. She felt even more drained than before, and all she could think about was how Crowley was gone. But Gabriel wasn't going to let her go that easy.

"Come on, kid. Move your big, scaly ass." The archangel prodded her tail with his foot. "Ash!" he snapped, when she didn't respond. "I didn't come out of retirement just to watch the world go to Hell. If that's what I'd wanted, I would've stayed where I was and saved myself a lot of trouble!"

Ash growled and pushed herself to her feet, swinging her head around to glare at him. One of her eyes had melted in its socket, and the surrounding area was pink and oozing.

"I need you human-shaped; let's go. You don't want Hell getting cozy up here."

She hissed and tried to shift, but it was like trying to lift a car. Her body just wasn't going to give her anything else.

"Angels!" Gabriel called.

The dozen or so survivors gathered around them, including Castiel.

"I know you're all exhausted, but I need a little favor. Just a little energy from each of you should be enough."

One by one, the angels stepped forward and touched the dragon, using a tiny bit of Grace to revitalize her. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give her the strength to shift into a human and not immediately collapse.

Gabriel made a circle about as wide as Sam was tall out of demon blood by slicing dead demons open and dragging them around. Inside the circle, he drew an Enochian symbol using more blood. Ash's feet tingled as she stepped into the circle, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

"If you are not an angel, you do not set foot in this circle," Gabriel warned the spectators. "I'm not sure what will happen, but it won't be pretty."

The angels drew closer, but even they remained outside. The humans came forward with more caution, hanging farther back. Sam stayed by his brother's side, unwilling to leave his body behind.

Ash, Gabriel, and Castiel were alone in the center of the circle. Gabriel produced a regular angel blade, property of a now-deceased angel, and Ash stepped back instinctively, bumping into Cas.

"I hate to tell you this, kid," Gabriel said, "But this is really gonna…What's the phrase?"

"Kill me," Ash guessed, flinching as Castiel gripped her shoulder.

"What? No. You might wish it did, though. 'Hurt like a son of a bitch,' that's what I was trying to say." He gave her an apologetic smile.

Ash noticed that the circle was devoid of spirits, but around them there were clusters of apparitions. Some of the angels were interacting with them with the uncomfortable air of a customer service representative who had received a customer complaint but the manager wasn't available. A few damned souls approached the angels as well, trying to plead their cases or just find out what in Hell was going on. Distant howls and unearthly snarls drifted across the hangar, sending shivers down the spines of all its inhabitants.

"You are the only being that can bring them back," Gabriel explained. "Lucifer was telling the truth about that part. The not-so-fun bit is that I have to sort of…Unlock your potential, by cutting symbols into you with this." He held up the knife, as if she could have forgotten about it. "A lot of symbols."

Castiel glanced around at the surrounding group and narrowed his eyes. He snapped his fingers and a bra and underwear appeared on Ash. Gabriel gave him a questioning look and he shrugged, nodding to the crowd as if to say, She can't save the world naked in front of other humans.

The archangel turned his attention back to her. "I'm going to ask Castiel to hold you, because you will move, and every symbol has to be precise."

Ash shivered, and found that she couldn't stop. She was trembling like a piece of paper tied to a fan, which was ridiculous—she'd been through this before.

It had been one of the worst training sessions she'd ever experienced. Crowley didn't know exactly how resurrecting the angels worked, but Agnes had included some helpful drawings in her book, and carving up the Nephilim was evidently part of it. He'd taken his angel blade and carved her up methodically, drawing nonsensical squiggles across her skin. Usually when he tortured people, he seemed cheerful about it, or if they'd done something nasty to him, angry; but with Ash he just seemed miserable. She hadn't realized it at the time, but he'd been struck by everything she felt while he hurt her, and really was miserable. He'd said that he didn't want to hurt her, but he had to in order to help her, and she would understand someday. And he's gone now.

"Ash?" Castiel questioned.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and sniffed. She needed to show the angels she was strong, that Crowley hadn't wasted his time on her. She could do this.

"Okay," she said, much quieter than she intended.

"It'll be easier if you kneel," Gabriel said gently. "I'll start on your back; I think that will be the least painful. Castiel, could you please face her? You can hold her shoulders. I think that will work."

Ash sank to her knees, and Castiel knelt facing her, their knees touching. He placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping them tightly. Ash twitched when Gabriel touched her back, thinking his hand was the blade. She tried to take deep breaths, remembering what had helped when Crowley had done it.

"I'm going to start right where my hand is," Gabriel said. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, trying to keep her back still. "Yes."

When she felt the blade bite through her skin, she hissed in pain, wishing she could put on a braver face and knowing there was no point in trying now. She bowed her head and closed her eyes, and felt Castiel's forehead touch her own.

"You can do this," he said.

"Cas—will…Will it work on demons? Can you resurrect a demon like an angel?" She whimpered again as the angel blade twisted, sending a jolt of pain down her spine.

"Why would you want to resurrect a demon?" Gabriel sniffed from behind her. "Oh, right—sorry, I forget the two of you were…Close." He thought for a while as he cut the pattern into her skin. "I suppose it can't hurt anything to try." He muttered something in Enochian that Ash didn't quite catch, and the sigil burned on her skin, complete. "Okay," he said cheerfully, "One down, 41 to go."

"There are 42 sigils?" Castiel asked in surprise.

Gabriel nodded. "I know Dad was fond of seven, and ten, but I think his favorite number was really 42. Comes up an awful lot."

"It really does," Cas said thoughtfully.

The blade moved to her lower back, which was less pleasant. Gabriel instructed her to bow her back slightly, and she rested her head in the crook of Castiel's shoulder. At least with her face hidden from view, she could react more openly to the pain. Cries and whimpers escaped her throat, muffled by the angel's trench-coat, and the fabric absorbed the tears that now streamed freely down her face. Even though the cuts were relatively shallow, it felt like Gabriel was gouging the knife straight down into her soul. Freaking angel blade.

Crowley, please let this work.

Gabriel finished the work on her back, sealing each sigil with Enochian words. "I need to do your legs," he said. "Castiel, you'll need to hold her ankles."

She gave Cas a pained look.

"You can do this. Crowley knew you could."

Damn him for bringing up Crowley. Of course she would do it; Crowley had ordered her to keep fighting, and this was, in a way, part of that fight. She laid down and crossed her forearms to make a sort of pillow for her head, tensingwhen Castiel grabbed her ankles. Gabriel started working on her right thigh and worked his way down to her calf, then carved into the sole of her foot. Then he repeated the process on her left leg. When he was finished, Ash was shivering, coated in blood and sweat.

"Roll over. Carefully," Gabriel warned.

Moving pulled at the edges of the cuts, making them burn. There was a temporary sense of relief when her skin met the cool concrete, but it didn't last long. Gabriel started working from her feet up this time: Castiel held her ankles until he got to her waist, then moved up to hold her shoulders down. Gabriel had to call in a second angel, Anael, to hold her ankles again because she jerked too much when he cut into the flesh above her hip bones.

Gabriel worked quickly but carefully, concentrating on his work and not saying much except for the Enochian phrases that seemed to activate the symbols. Occasionally he would tell Ash to hold her breath, or instruct Castiel and Anael to brace her for a particularly nasty cut. When he cut into the skin over her abdominal muscles, it felt like she was being disemboweled. She choked back a scream, which resulted in actually choking, and they had to let her sit up to breathe.

"Take this," Gabriel said, producing a thin leather wallet. "Bite down on it; it'll help. Humans use it as a coping mechanism when undergoing surgery without anesthesia."

Ash turned the wallet over in her hands, wondering if Gabriel really knew what he was talking about; but Anael nodded in confirmation, so she stuck it between her teeth and lay back down. Castiel put his weight on her shoulders, and she felt Anael's hands around her ankles again.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and he cut into the skin that covered her ribcage. She bit down hard enough on the wallet to feel the hide tear.

Gabriel finished with her chest. It felt like her lungs had been filled with ice water, set on fire, and then crushed. Her heart thumped erratically, and every few beats she would get a random pinching feeling, like she was having a heart attack.

"Arms," Gabriel said, and Anael moved to hold her wrists one at a time. He carved symbols down the length of her arms and onto both the back and palm of her hands; Ash realized she'd been clenching her fists a lot, and would no longer be able to do so.

"Almost done," he said, wiping blood off the blade for the umpteenth time. "Just the neck and head, and we'll be ready for the ritual."

"Neck?" she replied in alarm.

"Won't cut that deep," Gabriel said. "Just hold as still as you can."

The blade cut into her neck, burning her and making her feel like she was choking. She knew she was starting to panic at not being able to breathe, but she had to stay still or risk ruining the symbols. For Crowley, she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down hard on the wallet, focusing on the air moving in and out of her nose. You're still breathing. You're breathing. Fuck, I don't know if I can take this anymore; it feels like he's chopping my damn head off. Crowley, please come back; I don't know how to do this without you. I don't know how to be tough without you.

Gabriel moved on to her face, thankfully avoiding her eyes. Not so thankfully, the power radiating from the symbols made it feel like her skin was melting off.

"That's it; we're done." Gabriel set the blade aside and wiped his bloody hands on his pants.

All three angels helped her to sit up, and Gabriel instructed her to kneel again, sitting back on her heels. He adopted the same pose facing her, their knees almost touching, and Castiel and Anael exited the circle. Ash tried to ignore the blood dripping down her body, but it was difficult to avoid when it was dripping into her eyes. It still felt like someone was crushing her lungs and neck, and a million little venomous insects were eating her alive. Focus. Crowley told you to keep fighting.

Gabriel held his hands up in front of him, palms facing forward, and Ash copied him, pressing their hands together. The blood on her hands squished and made them stick together.

"We have to call each angel individually. They may not respond right away, and that's fine; it will take them a while to wake up and leave the Empty."

"Can—Can I say her name first?"

Gabriel cocked his head to the side; after a moment of confusion, he smiled. "Sure, kid. Repeat after me." He began speaking in Enochian, which, roughly translated, amounted to: "Awaken, Marian, angel of the Lord, and return to His service."

"Awaken, Marian, angel of the Lord, and return to His service." Her breath caught as all the cuts on her body burned like brands. "How do we know if it worked?"

"We won't; not right away, at least. It could take anywhere from minutes to days for them to resurrect, and there's no telling where they'll turn up. But when enough angels have been created, Heaven and Hell will…Reopen, if you will, and we'll be able to return the souls to Heaven and the…Other things to Hell."

They repeated the process for hundreds of angels. It took hours, and each time, Ash thought for sure she wouldn't be able to do one more. She began to create her own mantra between each angel-summoning: "Awaken, Crowley, demon King of Hell, and return." Gabriel was starting to give her a pitying look, as if she were Simba trying to get Mufasa to get back up after the stampede.

There were three names that Ash would not say. Crowley had told her never to resurrect them, and though he'd never told her why, she'd always been fairly certain they were the angels who had killed her mother. When she refused to say the names for Gabriel and he merely nodded in understanding, she knew that they were the ones. Over all, they managed to resurrect 223 angels before Ash blacked out, slumping forward mid-sentence. Gabriel caught her and lowered her gently to the floor, uttering a phrase to stop the ritual.

"Castiel. A hand, if you'd be so kind?" Gabriel had used up most of his available grace on the resurrection. He knew Cas didn't have a whole lot of mojo left either—none of them did—but at least Castiel was still standing upright without bags under his eyes. "Can you heal her?"

Castiel almost passed out trying, as did Anael. The battle with Lucifer had taken too much out of them, and the symbols that covered her body were powerful and resistant to Grace. They were able to stop most of the bleeding and give her enough energy to wake up, but there wasn't much else they could do for her.

Castiel draped his trenchcoat around her and scooped her up. Half-dried blood began seeping through the fabric. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Crowley?"

"Castiel," he corrected her.

"Cas." She blinked, trying to focus bleary eyes. "What happened?"

"You passed out. We tried to heal you, but I'm afraid we couldn't do much."

She tried to shift her position so she could see around the hangar, but it was too painful to move. She rolled her head to the side instead. "Is…Did I bring back enough?"

Castiel nodded. "Heaven and Hell are open again. My brothers and sisters will work to restore everything to its rightful place. You've served your purpose, Ash; he'd be proud of you."

Ash blushed, but it was impossible to tell under all the blood. She turned her face in to his chest, both feeling proud of herself and terrible at the same time. "I thought it would work. I thought I could bring him back if I just wanted it enough…"

Castiel bit back a reply about Crowley being a demon, and not something that should be brought back. After all, who was he to judge? He'd worked with Crowley before. And, to be honest, having Crowley in charge of Hell had been beneficial. Cas knew he could defeat the demon if he had to, but he had been more valuable alive than dead. He'd run Hell like a business, focusing on integrity and sustainability. The majority of Heaven and Earth's demon-related problems over the last few years had been caused by his adversaries, other demons who wanted him off the throne. There was certainly a large faction of old-school demons who believed more along Lucifer's line of thinking, that Hell should rise up and take control over everything, and they hated Crowley's belief that Hell should stay in Hell where it belonged. After all, if every soul on Earth was tortured, who would make the good scotch?

"I know," he said. "I need you to do one more thing for me."

Ash nodded against his shoulder.

"With Lucifer gone, and Crowley de—" Cas felt Ash tense up, and rethought his words. "Crowley…Not here," he amended, "The demons need someone in charge. They'll fight each other tooth and claw over a power vacuum, and we all know how well that turns out. I need you to take charge. Just for now."

"Me? But I'm not—"

"You killed Lucifer, and that makes you top dog, as far as Hell is concerned. Talk to them; tell them what to do." He set her down feet-first and let her take a moment to gain her balance.

She moved slowly over to the mass of demons that had gathered after the fight. Many had already fled, hoping to find someplace that was safe from both angels and the Things that had been thrown up by Hell. Those who were still present, remained out of morbid curiosity about what would happen next. As Ash approached them, they fell silent and turned toward her.

A few demons toward the front knelt and bowed their heads. The demons around them decided that wasn't a bad idea and followed suit. 'Always suck up to the biggest Bad' was Hell's unofficial survivalist motto.

Elbows were jabbed into those who weren't paying attention, and slowly the ranks all began to kneel. A few grumbled under their breath, keeping their chins up to scowl at her. And some refused to bow altogether.

One demon started to say: "Well I don't see why we should bow down to a—"

Ash's anger flared. She didn't even want to be in charge of them—even Crowley had been miserable most of the time he was King, and he was one of them. She just needed them to shut up and pay attention for five minutes. All she wanted was to find a way to get Crowley back, and Dean—shit, Dean was really dead, wasn't he?

The disgruntled demon vanished in a gritty 'poof.' Evidently, Ash's emotional mojo was still on point even if her physical abilities were limited.

There was a collective intake of breath from the others, and every last one dropped to their knees, heads bowed low. There would be time to disagree and overthrow later: For now, surviving was more important.

Ash wracked her brain for a familiar name. "Is the demon Meg here?" Meg had never seen eye to eye with Crowley, and they had in fact tried to kill each other several times, but that was par for the course in Hell. Ash knew that Meg was clever and wouldn't die easily, plus she understood concepts like 'Hell will continue to exist only as long as Earth and Heaven do as well,' and that more gains could be made through savvy business deals rather than mindless slaughter.

A demon blinked into space in front of her, part of her scalp hanging off and one eye swollen shut. "Here," she said, then added, "your majesty."

Ash snorted at the title. "Meg. You remember me?"

Meg peered at her through her one good eye. Half her mouth curved up in a grin; the other half appeared to be stuck. "You're the little girl who made the demons cry. You made them remember their mommies." She laughed, then spat a mouth full of blood onto the floor behind her. "Crowley's little princess."

Ash focused on the demon inside the vessel: She was tired and beaten down, but still bright with…Well, with whatever it was that demons had that qualified as 'life.' Still just as feisty as she'd been when she'd tried to assassinate Crowley many years ago.

"Let's make a deal."

The demon's eyebrows shot up. There was a flash of humor in her eye. "Let's."

"I need your help. Every demon and hellhound on the planet goes back to Hell, and you take all the Hellish things that escaped back with you. In return, I leave you in charge."

Meg's smile widened.

Ash stood up straighter. "…With the understanding that, ultimately, I call the shots. I killed Lucifer, I'm Crowley's…Next of kin; I say how this works. And as long as Hell works, I won't say a word. Deal?"

"Deal." Meg stared at the Nephilim for a moment, like she was playing the next hundred or so years out in her head. Finally, she cleared her throat and turned back to the crowd.

"Hear that? I'm your new queen, bitches."

"All hail Queen Meg!" a bright soldier shouted.

Meg's eye honed in on him. "You're quick on the uptake. What's your name?"

The demon moved so that he was in front of her, and knelt. "Severus, Your Majesty."

Her eyebrow raised up. "Really? Harry Potter?"

The demon looked confused. "Majesty?"

"How long have you been a demon, Severus?"

"135 years, Majesty."

"Ah. Never mind, then. Severus, how would you like to be my right-hand man?"

Severus looked up at Meg, and knew these things: The closer one was to the ruler of Hell, the more power one had and could acquire. Also, the closer one was to the ruler of Hell, the faster one was likely to die. Also, refusing the ruler's offer at this time would result in an instant death.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Right. All you lot, we're going home. Let's round up the stragglers and the bitey little nightmare thingies."

The demons vanished.

Castiel appeared beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You did well. Come on; let's get you home."

She turned to follow him, and stopped: Dean's corpse was lying on the ground, and Sam was back beside him, preparing to transport the body back to the bunker.

"You can bring him back, right?" Ash said to the angel.

Castiel's brow furrowed, and he frowned at his friend's lifeless form. "…Of course."

Sam looked up at them. "Why do I sense there's a 'but' coming?"

"But…" Cas sighed. "I need to find him first. We'll have to wait for stability to be fully restored to Heaven and Hell before I can even begin to look."

Sam cleared his throat. "What if he's not in either?"

"What are you talking about?"

"A while ago, Death—well, Billie, she was just a reaper then—told me they were done bringing us back. She said they were going to toss us into the Empty next time one of us died."

Ash brightened. "Oh. That's good, right? You can just go to the Empty and—"

"I cannot just 'go to the Empty,'" Cas sighed. "Not without dying. And finding a human soul there—it's infinite. You can't even begin to imagine the scale of it."

Ash's misplaced optimism deflated. "What do we do?"

"The same thing we always do: Research," Cas said. "We'll find a way." He left Ash to walk on her own and bent down to help Sam carry the body.

That didn't sound promising. Surely there was a better way? Ash had healed him before: bringing someone back from the dead was just the ultimate healing, wasn't it?

She sank down next to his corpse before Sam and Cas had a chance to lift him up, and put her hands on his chest. He was still warm.

"Ash…"

"It can't hurt to try," she said. "What's the worst thing that can happen? I fail? It's not like I can make him more dead!"

"Just…Be careful. You don't know what the consequences will be to you," Castiel warned.

Ash shook her head. She wasn't worried about that. She'd been expecting to die today, anyway.

She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of Dean's soul, how it was fierce and bright and righteous, full of pain and anger and love. She knew that part of her soul looked like his, the same way that a lot of it looked like Crowley's and a little looked like Sam. There was even a little bit that looked like Cas's grace. But all she needed now was the bit that loved Dean.

Ash let her power flow into his body. Nothing happened at first, so she pushed harder, until she felt like she was about to snap in half. Castiel gasped, and she opened her eyes: Golden light was flowing from her hands into Dean. It felt like part of her soul was being torn away, but she couldn't stop now.

"Stop. Now!" Castiel ordered.

She ignored him.

The angel grabbed her shoulder, trying to pull her away, but the connection she had with Dean wasn't that easily broken. "Ash! It's destroying your soul! You have to stop!"

Don't need a soul, Ash thought, gritting her teeth. Angels don't have them. Neither do demons. Crowley did fine without his.

"Ash!" Cas's grip tightened. "We'll find another w—"

She could feel the pain Dean held onto his entire life, all the repressed anger and grief. And then she felt nothing. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over, unconscious.