AN: Blood and guts and lots of demons, fa la la la la… Oops, sorry. I'm feeling festive. But there is violence in this chapter, so be warned. Bad language words, too. Naughty Woomie.

SkyHighFan: Thanks for reading and for your review! A quick death is too good for any demon that dares touch Ben, right?

Leann: Thank you! You are so nice. I completely agree that Dean wasn't truly happy without Sam, even though he obviously cared for Lisa and Ben a ton.

sfaulkenberry: I'm busted! Seriously, I only tease you because I love you. Thank you for your comment on the characterizations; that and the boys' relationship are the most important things to me as I write, so I appreciate your comment very much. I also adore Crowley, and missed him so much once he was gone. I was hoping he'd somehow appear in the finale. I'm with you all the way about Dean with Lisa and Ben, and you said it perfectly, IMO. He was content but not truly happy. And yes, lots of violence here. Took me long enough in this story, eh? Hehe

Shazza: No flashbacks in this chapter *sniff, sniff* but I really like using them. I actually added an extra one after your comments on chapter 4. Also, I love that I can talk cars with you! I've always loved sexy cars, though I'm no expert. Confession: I might choose a '69 GTO or a '70 Stingray over a '67 Impala. Don't tell Baby.

Sam and Dean were well into an area of squatting, abandoned factories with aging bricks and blackened windows staring down blankly when a voice spoke from the back seat. "What's the plan, boys?"

Dean had been down this road enough times that he didn't crash the car, but it was a near thing. "That's it! I'm putting a devil's trap on that seat!" he yelled at Crowley once they were safely stopped and pulled over.

"You wouldn't defile your precious that way," Crowley argued, probably correctly. "The actual location of the stronghold is two blocks east, and Praedo has both humans and demons guarding the place. I imagine the boy is inside, but it's warded against transporting. So I ask again, what's the plan?"

Dean twisted to face Crowley and sneered. "Who says we even want you involved?"

"You called me," Crowley whined. "Besides, you have a personal beef with Praedo, I have a beef with his…first lieutenant. And I'm not exactly chopped liver. As the kids say, I've got mad skeelz." He grinned at the look of disgust on Dean's face, and Dean distinctly heard a small snort of laughter from the passenger seat. He sent a dirty look toward Sam.

"Never say that again," Dean ordered, back to glaring at the demon.

"Agreed." Crowley adjusted his suit coat. "So…?"

"So you can come with us on a few conditions. One, you tell me why you're really here, and two, you let me have Preppy."

"And three?" Crowley was many things, but he wasn't stupid.

"You do whatever it takes to keep the kid safe. No screwing around if his life's on the line."

"Done."

Dean's eyebrows went up and he saw Sam's disbelieving expression out of the corner of his eye. That was easy. "Wow. You must really want this second in command dude. What's the story? Spill."

"She was my…most recent paramour, and she betrayed me to free Praedo and his followers." Crowley looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

Dean caught Sam's eye, and they both burst out laughing. "Wait, wait, you're helping us because your girlfriend hooked up with someone else?" That made then\m laugh more, enough to cover Crowley's litany of complaints about how a king didn't have girlfriends and other nonsense. Finally, they got themselves under control, though Crowley's sour expression nearly started them off again. It was a welcome moment of levity in a very serious situation.

Thinking about what was at stake sobered Dean quickly. "Here's what we're going to do. Crowley, you take care of the outside guys. Don't kill the humans unless you absolutely have to. I'll go for Ben."

"I'll help you clear the way, and find the warding so Crowley can pop in as back-up," added Sam, to Dean's nod.

Crowley shrugged. "Sounds simple enough." Just like that, he was gone.

Dean caught Sam's eye, then floored it, sliding around the corner to head for the direction Crowley had indicated. Their plan depended a lot on speed and surprise, so if they didn't get there in a hurry, Crowley would ruin everything.

As they pulled up, someone fell screaming from the roof. "Yup. This is the place," said Dean unnecessarily, feeling his will harden in preparation for the charge.

Then he was running in, Sam at his back. There were far more henchmen than they'd expected, but Dean only had eyes for the teen bound to a chair in the middle of the single, giant room. He was gagged and blindfolded, but Dean had no doubts who it was.

The factory was mostly a huge, open space with tools and debris scattered across the floor, but nothing in the way of furniture. There were metal stairs to both sides, leading to open-air catwalks that had doors off them, possibly offices.

Dean took that all in in a second. Then, in a breath, he was slashing and spinning, throwing people aside. "I'm coming, Ben," he called, in case the boy could hear him. The kid began to struggle against his bonds and, if anything, it made Dean fight even harder. He went into what Caleb used to call his berserker mode. Nothing existed except the fight, though he never lost track of Sam at his back.

A line of fire burned Dean's right bicep, but it didn't even matter. He stabbed the guy who'd gotten inside his guard, not really caring that there was no flickering to indicate it was a demon. More slashes, kicking someone's legs out from under him, punching the biggest woman he'd ever seen in the face. An elbow caught Dean on the jaw, but it barely slowed him.

They were mobbing him now, getting in each others' way as they all tried to take Dean down. Didn't matter. He was an equal opportunity ganker. He kicked a knee, causing it to buckle sideways, smashed two heads into each other, and slashed the throat of a pig-faced guy who tried to head butt him.

"Down!" called Sam, and Dean obeyed without question. Boom. Boom. Boom. Sam had gained the high ground and was picking opponents off, freeing Dean to army crawl to Ben. Just as he got there, his subconscious registered an empty click that meant Sam was out of ammunition. Dean rose to a crouch, twisting to stab someone who was trying to sneak up on him and but catching a fist from someone else. He reversed his strike to stab the puncher in the heart.

There was a terrible, metallic crash to the left, where Sam had been fighting, but a quick peek that way revealed that it wasn't Sam getting hurt. He was using a sledge hammer to knock down the stairs. The rickety steps fell on just the third blow.

Never stopping his motion, Dean pulled the knife free of a dying demon and slashed the ropes around Ben's ankles in one quick, precise move. He could hear Sam fighting back near the door they'd come in, but his voice emanated from up high, where he'd been a few moments before.

Exorcizaus te…

The voice obviously came from a phone speaker. Sam had found something to bounce the sound off, amplifying it, and by knocking down the stairs, put the phone out of reach. Smart.

Dean had gained himself a little space, and took the opportunity to rip the blindfold off Ben. And then he froze at the sound of a gun cocking. "Stop the exorcism or I blow the kid's head off!" It was pig face, hampered by the way his vessel's throat was bleeding, but still pointing a handgun unerringly at Ben. Dean stepped in front of Ben without thought.

"I can't stop it," Sam called from behind and to the right of piggy.

Cessa decipere…

"You have three seconds!" yelled the demon with the gun, aiming at Dean's forehead.

Vade, satana…

Dean caught Sam's eye flick indicating that someone was sneaking up on him from behind. "You'll have to shoot the phone to stop it," he told the visibly shaking demon. The rest of the demons were already on the floor, writhing with the power of the exorcism.

Humiliare sub potenti…

As the demon dithered, literally growling, Dean caught Sam's eye again. They both knew what they had to do. It wasn't a great plan, but they were out of options here.

Libera nos…

Not having a choice, swine face swung the gun over and shot at the phone. As soon as he moved, Sam and Dean moved too. Sam dove for the gunman, Dean shoved Ben's chair down to the floor and tackled the trucker-looking guy who'd been trying to sneak up from behind him. Asshole was built like a brick shithouse, and was incongruously armed with a delicate stiletto blade. He was strong as an ox, and Dean didn't hit his arm quite hard enough to completely deflect the weapon. It slid with disturbing ease through the very tip of the spot just inside the left point of Dean's collarbone. Dean and trucker dude rolled on the floor, trying to gain the upper hand. Their momentum caused the stiletto to tear loose, turning a shallow wound into a ragged tear. Dean's shoulder was instantly saturated with blood.

Ben was crying Dean's name, apparently free of the gag, and over the sounds of fighting, Dean could just hear Sam working to finish the exorcism, heavily interspersed with grunts. Tuam…secura…tibi facias…

Dean joined him as much as he could while fighting his overpowered opponent, but a meaty hand closed on his neck and it was all he could do to keep from dying.

A chair crashed over the demon, giving Dean the chance to partially break the demon's grip. "Run, Ben!" he managed to yell. Face agonized, Ben turned and ran out of Dean's view.

Then a gunshot rang out, and Sam's voice and the sound of Ben running both stopped.

Dean would have screamed if he could get any air. Sam? Ben? Who was hit?

Then the last voice he expected said, "Te rogamus, audi nos!" With a scream, black smoke flew from the trucker's mouth. Dean pushed the big, smelly body off himself and watched the smoke fly into a strange contraption that looked like a shallow bowl with a squarish spout that was held by Crowley. Crowley, who had finished the exorcism.

Smoke from the pig faced demon was joining trucker guy's in Crowley's whatever it was. When they'd disappeared inside, the king smugly placed a matching lid on top.

Dean fought to his feet, clamping his hand over his shoulder, which still seemed to be gushing blood. To his relief, Ben was standing not far away, looking shell-shocked and bruised, but okay. Sam, however, was lying on the ground, legs tangled with pig face, a small but growing pool of blood beneath him.

Dean called Sam's name and took a step that way, but he sounded even to himself like he was under water. For that matter, the whole factory rippled around Dean, and it occurred to him that he was losing a whole lot of blood. Crowley minced over to Sam and bent down. Dean tried to walk faster, but the floor refused to hold still for him. Crowley laid a hand on Sam, who arched, screamed, and fell limp.

"Crowley, you – " Dean started.

With a look of indifference on his face and Sam's blood painting his hand, Crowley reached for Dean. He clamped a hand right on the injured shoulder and Dean's world erupted into flames. Ben's mouth was moving but Dean couldn't hear it over his own scream.

The flames gobbled his consciousness and everything went dark.