August 19, 2006

Dean reviewed the curriculum pacing guide for the first month again. Third grade had shifted their science curriculum to match the new state standards imposed as a result of the NCLB, and Dean wasn't pleased with the quality of the new content. Granted, it covered a greater range of topics-but with an extremely superficial level of dedication. The school was also mandating weekly STEM Fridays-meaning that there were only four days to teach the material each week. He sighed, And they wonder why our test scores keep slipping…

**SPN**

Sam was enjoying a cup of tea as he read a magazine. He was back at work, and was looking forward to more normalcy. Bobby's great and all, but I don't exactly want to be a hunter-though the information is pretty useful I'm looking forward to this all being over and us getting back to normal. He smirked at the thought of all the clear acrylic devils traps painted all over his house. He and Dean had both taken to it as a precaution-that and placing permanent salt lines under the window sills by filling PVC pipes with salt and hiding them under the sill.

He glanced at his laptop as a light blinked-Another email. Sam had been required to host a class in the fall and was already being bombarded with questions by a handful of students. I still have no idea how Dean manages little kids, adults are bad enough!

**SPN**

Bobby had taken every precaution when dealing with the Colt. The gun was arguably the single most valuable thing against the impending apocalypse, and there was no way in hell he was letting anything happen to it. The gun was tucked in what had once been the downstairs linen closet (back when Karen had insisted they have good linens). The thing was made of iron, surrounded by salt, and only able to be opened by his fingerprint and a key he had tucked in a safety deposit box halfway across the state. Bobby glanced at the cabinet as he poured over another book, Even if a demon showed up in his living room it wasn't going to get it.

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Yellow-eyes smirked as he stepped through the doorway and pinned Bobby to the wall.

"How the fuck did you get in?!" Bobby sputtered.

"I had some help. Oh, R.J.!" The call was sickeningly sweet, mocking a parent calling for their child.

"Right here…" R.J. stepped out of the shadows of the entry, his eyes glowing.

Holy shit. "R.J.?"

"Sorry I can't stay and chat Bobby. If you don't mind my boss and I have some business to attend to, then we'll be going." He smiled wickedly as he walked over to the linen closet and yanked the wooden door off its frame. He laughed at the safe door. "Reinforced with a biometric scanner and a keyhole." He placed his finger on the keyhole and listened as the heat melted the tumblers, releasing the lock.

Azazel smiled, turning to Bobby. "I'll get you the print in a minute." He tilted his chin up, appraising the hunter pinned to the wall. "Which finger?"

"Like I'd tell you." Bobby spat at him.

"Well, I wanted to be civil." Azazel pulled out his blade and severed Bobby's right hand-it fell to the floor with a thud as Bobby stood shocked, beginning to pale as blood poured from his stump and began to puddle on the floor. Azazel tossed the hand to R.J., "Try these. Chances are it was his right, but I'll get the left if none of them work."

R.J. caught the hand as if it were no different than a baseball and began pressing the fingers. It clicked when Bobby's middle finger was pressed against the sensor. "I gotta admit, defiant until the end…" R.J. picked up the Colt.

"Well, he's like the other two I told you about-they like to do things the hard way." Azazel stepped forward, his breath on Bobby's neck. "You know, I wanted to thank you for this-the Colt in a nice spot, safe from any idiots trying to use it…" He placed his finger under Bobby's chin. "When I came in I had planned to kill you, but you know what, I think I'll let you live. You did my job for me with this one." He stepped back, "After all, I'm a sporting fellow." He flicked his wrist and Bobby's hand was no longer bleeding, it was cauterized, leaving painful third degree burns in its place. "It's more fun to win when your opponent has a chance. No one likes an easy victory." He turned to R.J. and nodded, then suddenly they were gone and Bobby fell to the floor, no longer suspended by the demon's power.

Bobby limped to his phone and pressed six.

"Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?"

**SPN**

Bobby was passed out when he felt the EMT lift him onto a stretcher. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to refuse. He heard muffled talking and felt someone put an IV in his arm, then the darkness took over again.