A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one, friends. Holiday time got crazy busy in my life. Things have calmed down considerably, so I'm back at the keyboard more often. For those of you following my other stories, I'm not abandoning any of them. I just write what comes into my head, sometimes it's for this story, sometimes it's for another. All of them will be updated at some point, but I'm not going to make any promises on when.

Also… Ye be warned, Lemon, right ahead. (Seriously though, if you're not a fan of lemons… skip to Bella's PoV in this chapter)

Chapter 13

Dean PoV

Part of me wants to toss my idea of waiting for her birthday out the window. I've wanted her since I laid eyes on her, and now, to her, six extra months have gone by. She must be thinking along the same lines because as soon as I return to the bed after turning out the lights, she's on me like white on rice. She's straddling my hips, grinding onto me while kissing me hard. She's like a starving person at an oasis. "Well damn, Bella; I missed you, too," I gasp when she breaks away from me for a second. She giggles seductively but then her lips are on mine again.

Her hands cover mine and slide them up her torso under her shirt. I take this as a sign she wants me to remove her shirt, so I do just that, her lips breaking from mine for just a second while I pull it over her head. Then I flip her over and hover over her, taking control of the situation. She lifts her hips and grinds herself into me while biting my bottom lip. Damn, she really wants this. Here I thought she was all exhausted from the long car ride, but she's ready and raring to go.

"I know it's been half a day separation for you, but it's been six months for me. Please don't make me wait anymore. I wasn't ready before, so I'm glad you stopped us then, but I'm more than ready now." Who am I to deny her? I reach down and cup her breast, realizing that she's not wearing a bra. The darkness in our room leaves a lot to mystery. I hadn't noticed that when I removed her shirt, so I'm pleasantly surprised now.

I scoot downwards so I can latch onto her peak and swirl my tongue around the tip. She groans in response, telling me she's liking what I'm doing. Her fingers find their way into my hair and she tugs lightly. I move back upwards and press my lips to hers as my fingers work their way down her chest, across her stomach that I notice has become more taut and muscular in her magical six month absence. Pausing at the waistline of her pants, I wait for her to give me permission to move forward. Rather than speaking, she takes my hand and pushes it beneath the fabric.

Quickly, I learn she's not wearing any panties as I'm met with her bare skin. Also, there's no hair, which surprises me. "Charlie suggested that," she whispers. "Had it done at the salon while my hair color was setting," she adds. Moving my fingers downwards, I find her sensitive nub and press down gently. She arches her back and begs for more. With my free hand, I pull down her pants and toss them off the bed. Her legs are smooth and soft, but firm in all the right places. "Dean," she whispers.

I pull my own pants off and then climb back up the bed and hover over her. "Do you have any idea how much I want you?" I rasp before kissing her hard. She presses her hand against my shoulder and then moves it downwards, across my torso and downwards where she wraps it around my length.

"Oh yes, I have a pretty good idea," she replies, moving her fingers up and down me a few times. Dear god, it feels incredible. "What are you waiting for, Dean?" she asks.

"It's your first time, sweetheart. I don't want to hurt you," I answer. "So I need to make sure you're nice and ready for me. I move so I'm laying next to her, and run my hand down her body once again and find her sex with my fingers. She's already starting to get wet, so I know it won't take much to get her ready for me. I move my fingers around, listening as she pants and moans. Then I carefully push one finger inside her. I can feel her muscles clench around me, as this is a new sensation for her. She grabs my forearm.

"I'm okay, keep going," she says. I move my finger in and out a few times before adding another. Again she gasps but it doesn't seem like a painful gasp. "Oh, that feels incredible." Damn right it does. Only two fingers and she's super tight. "Please Dean. More. I want you," she begs.

"You never have to beg, Bella. Never," I answer before moving off the bed and finding a condom. Once I'm laying over her again, she pulls me down for another kiss. "Are you ready?" I ask, placing myself at her entrance.

"Yes, Dean. Make love to me." This gives me only a moment of pause. In the past, I'd never call sex making love. Only ever with Lisa did it feel like that. Every other time was just sex. A way to get my rocks off and move on to the next hunt. But this… this is making love.

I gently push into her a tiny bit, waiting a few moments for her to get used to the new feeling. Then I move a little more. Once I'm fully inside her, she lets out a low moan. "Are you alright?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm okay. I feel so… full, I guess," she answers. Her hands come up and grasp my shoulders, squeezing gently. "You can move now." I pull out gently and push back in ever so slowly. She moans again. "Yes, oh, that feels amazing. Please do that again."

"Oh, I plan to, Bella," I assure her. Moving back and forth a bit faster, I set a steady rhythm. Her legs come up and wrap around my hips, giving me a whole new angle. "Oh, baby, you feel so good," I tell her.

"Really?" she asks. "I feel like you're doing all the work, and I don't know what I'm doing."

I shake my head. "Oh yes you do. You know exactly what you're doing, and you're doing it very well." I lean down and kiss her, feeling her fingers slide up my shoulders, and into my hair. "The way you touch me, the sounds you make, the movements you make. It's all perfect, trust me." I kiss her again, wiggling my hips as I do so. She groans again. "Do you want it faster?" She nods against me, so I begin moving faster. "Tell me if it's too much."

I prop myself up on one arm and use the other to hitch one of her legs higher up my side, and thrust into her hard. "Oh God!" she yells. "Do that again!" I repeat the motion and she screams out my name. I have no idea of the level of soundproofing these rooms have, but I don't have it in me to care. Let the world know that I, Dean Winchester, am making Bella Swan, aka Bella Remington, scream out in pleasure. I repeat the thrust and earn another loud moan. She grips my forearm with one hand and wraps the other around one of her breasts, squeezing it hard. Oh yes. Her fingernails are digging into my skin, which only spurs me on, and she seems to like it a lot.

Thrusting in and out of her at this angle is amazing. I can feel her muscles tightening around me and she keeps moaning and yelling and begging for more. "Oh Dean, I think I'm… Oh Fuck!" Her muscles squeeze me hard before contracting as her orgasm rips through her, and makes my own orgasm start. I release her leg and press my body against hers as we both feel the effects. "That was… holy shit."

I chuckle against her neck. "Yeah it was," I agree. She was worried she didn't know what she was doing, but she met every one of my thrusts with lifting her hips, and it only deepened the angle, making it even more incredible.

"Dean, this is going to sound corny and mushy, but I'm so glad I never did that with Edward or anyone else. I'm glad it was you that I shared that with the first time, and that it was you that made me feel that way." I slowly pull myself out of her and lay next to her again. I roll over onto my back and pull her with me so she can rest on my chest. She wraps her arm around my torso.

"I'm glad I was your first, too," I add. And if I have anything to say about it, I'll be her last, too. Half of me wants to throw out a joke of having her go make me a sandwich.

"If you tell me to go make you a sandwich, I'm going to hurt you," she says.

"How in the hell did you know I was thinking of making that joke?"

She giggles. "Because I know you, Dean Winchester." She does. She truly does, and while in the past that would terrify me, it makes me even happier. And that terrifies me. In this life, happiness never lasts. Good things always turn bad, and the people we care about always end up dead. It's only a matter of time before Bella is taken away from me one way or another. And even though that means I should send her away, and get her out of this life, I won't. She wouldn't let me for one thing, and I'm too damn selfish to let this go. Even though I know it's gonna kill me later. I'll be happy as a clam until that day.

She makes a quick trip to the bathroom, donning only my discarded t-shirt. While she's gone, I straighten the bedding out and turn on the ceiling fan. We'd gotten pretty hot and sweaty and I'd like to cool down a bit. When she returns, she's got two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies in her hand.

"Dessert?" she offers, holding out the plate. I chuckle and take a cookie, munching it down in one bite. "Guess we worked up a bit of an appetite."

"Indeed," I agree.

She sits down cross-legged on the bed and sips her milk. "We need to do that again," she states, a red blush covering her face. "I mean, not right this minute, but… I wanna do that again. And often."

"You're not the only one, babe. We're getting two rooms at every hotel from here on out. It's just gonna have to be that way."

"Well if Charlie can figure out how we can access the funds in those Men of Letters accounts then I'm sure that won't be a problem. Hell, we may be richer than Bill Gates for all we know." That's true. If Charlie can hack Dick Roman, I'm sure she can figure this place out. We'll have to tackle that in the morning while we search for Abaddon.

After finishing the post-sex snack, we snuggle back into bed, share a few kisses, and quickly fall asleep. Bella has changed in the time she was away, but I think it's for the better. She was already showing signs of being more bad-ass not long after she joined us, but now, it's almost like she's fearless. Then again, that may not be a good thing.

Bella PoV

When I wake up in the morning, I feel a light ache deep in my stomach, and my legs are deliciously sore. Oh yes, Dean Winchester, we will definitely be doing that again. But I need a day or two to recuperate first. He's still fast asleep while I'm getting up and ready to head to the shower. In the kitchen, Sam is already there tinkering on his laptop and sipping coffee. "Morning, Remi," he says, giving me a dimply smile. "Are you making breakfast?" he asks. His eyes are all lit up at the prospect of another home-cooked meal.

"Yeah, I was thinking waffles," I answer. "I haven't had a waffle in over six months," I add with a wink. He nods and smiles, turning back to his laptop. He doesn't mention hearing me and Dean last night and gives no indication that he has any idea of what went on in our room. Either we have great soundproofing or he sleeps like a rock. We'll have to see if Charlie has any commentary to give once she's up.

She pops in as I'm making the batter and heating up the waffle iron. "Waffles! Oh my god, when's the last time I had a waffle?" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

"I'm guessing at least six months ago," I answer. "Why did we never conjure up waffles for breakfast while we were there? Coulda made that life much more bearable."

"No shit," she agrees. "Is that coffee? Real-life, non-imaginary coffee?" She finds a mug and pours herself a cup, taking a huge whiff of the aroma. "God I love the real world. If I ever have a chance to head into a mythical land again, please punch me in the face for even considering it."

"Ditto," I concur. "Would you grab the heavy cream out of the fridge?" I ask, pointing at the massive fridge behind her. Meanwhile I pull out the mixer and a bowl, and find the sugar and vanilla to make real whipped cream. No cool-whip allowed in this family.

I mix up the whipped cream while the first waffle is cooking. Once it's done, I set it aside and start cooking bacon, knowing even through the thick walls of this place, Dean will inevitably smell the bacon and wake up.

"I slept better than I ever have last night," Charlie comments. "Nice to not have to sleep with one eye open for once, or in shifts."

"You guys did that while in the Fairy Realm?" Sam asks. Charlie and I nod.

"There was no telling what nightmarish thing might try to get us in the night. I'd sleep for a couple hours, then she'd sleep, between the two of us we got probably six hours sleep every night. Once we opened up our imaginations to that place, any and every fictional character came to life there. Even the bad ones."

"The ring wraiths were the worst for me," Charlie mentions. "Those things were creepy as fuck. Yeah, they were just like the ones in the movie, but in person they're supa-horrific."

"Yeah, they were awful. I hated Jareth the most, though. He just wouldn't leave well enough alone and kept sending his minions in to attempt to kidnap me."

Sam snorts. "Jareth? As in the Goblin King from Labyrinth?" We nod again. "Wow. You really mean every fictional character, don't you?"

"Yep, between the two of us, we've read a shit-ton of novels, and seen a shit-ton of movies, so all of those characters came to life. I think my favorite, though was when Ash chopped off that zombie Mr. Darcy's head. That was classic. Minus the blood spatter all over me. That was not so cool. But, as far as I can tell. I'm totally over my aversion to blood. So… I guess that's a thing."

Dean enters the kitchen then, having smelled the bacon. He steps over to me, kisses my cheek and then offers to help. "You can flip the bacon," I tell him, handing over the tongs.

"Mornin' Charlie," he says to my new best friend, waving with the tongs in hand. "How'd you sleep?" His emphasis on the word 'you' tells me he's fishing for whether or not anyone else heard us last night. I fight the blush that threatens to cover my cheeks.

"Like a rock. That memory foam mattress is amazing. I haven't slept so well in a very long time. Thanks for letting me crash here."

Dean waves her off. "You're family, Charlie. We're always here for family." Charlie smiles affectionately at him, her eyes glistening. Something tells me that family is what she's been missing in her life. She had told me that her parents died in a car accident when she was a kid and that it was her fault, so she ran away and never looked back. That was part of the reason she was so terrified while in the Fairy Realm. She just knew that somehow it would figure out her worst fear and make it real.

Thankfully, no real people ever showed up there, so I wasn't sure why she was so afraid that it'd start. "Hey Charlie, after breakfast, do you think you could try hacking into the accounts associated with the power plant upstairs? We think it's a front for the Men of Letters and that the profit from the plant has just been sitting in bank accounts forever, accruing deposits and interest. Since we're the only ones left of the order, we've legally every right to those funds," I suggest.

While I'm finishing the waffles, Dean and Sam fill Charlie in on the Men of Letters and their grandfather Henry travelling through time, and about Abaddon inhabiting my great grandmother's body. "Jeez, talk about a fucked up family tree," Charlie states. "So a Knight of Hell… that's worse than a regular demon?"

I nod. "Yeah, they're apparently resistant to most things that are other demons' kryptonite. Like they can break out of demon traps and resist exorcism."

She looks around the room at the three of us. "Okay, so how do we kill it?"

"Breakfast first, killing demons second. Let's talk about that after we eat, eh?" I suggest, as I plate up the waffles. Dean sets the now cooked bacon on a clean plate and then brings it to the table. Sam grabs the required plates and silverware while I get the whipped cream, fresh fruit, syrup and butter. Charlie, being the guest, just has to sit there and look pretty.

Everyone moans at their first bite, complimenting my cooking skills. I'm thankful that six months of imagining food into existence didn't put a damper on my culinary abilities. Before long, all the waffles are gone and the bacon, too. "Okay, so let's get down to brass tacks," Dean stated as we finished cleaning up the meal. "To the library?"

"To the Library!" Charlie and I chorus in unison. We both had stood up and posed as if we were going on a quest. Yeah, pretty obvious that we've spent the last six months with only each other for company. We've rubbed off on each other. I instantly know that we were both thinking of the brief time the Knights of the Round Table were with us… rather John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, and the other members of Monty Python were there. After dissolving into a fit of giggles, we return to the task at hand and follow the brothers, who both are shaking their heads while chuckling, out to the main room then into the adjacent library.

Each taking up a chair, we begin pouring through the tomes available to us that all had something to do with Knights of Hell. There are at least ten books to look through, so we have our work cut out for us. Charlie, meanwhile, is hacking into the power company's server upstairs and looking into the financial accounts. "Sure enough, the accounts have been sitting there, untouched for decades just accruing interest and deposits from the company. No one's even managing the accounts." She taps on the keyboard a few more times. "Jeez, there are millions upon millions in these accounts!"

"Holy shit!" Dean and I both exclaim.

"Okay, so how do we access it?" Sam adds after giving me and Dean an odd look. "Do we have to prove that we're legacies? How would we even do that? I mean, it's not like there's anyone left that can vouch for us. Abaddon killed all of them."

"Well, at the very least, I'm sure Henry Winchester is listed as one of the recipients," I offered. "You guys share his last name, and can prove lineage, right? My last name is different, but I could also prove lineage with a series of birth certificates, I suppose."

"I don't think it'll be that difficult," Charlie states. "All we need to do is have the bank issue debit cards, which we should be able to do with simply the account information, which I have here."

"But what about the other Men of Letters?" Sam asks. "I mean, we're grandchildren of former members, others may have had families. We should look into that, right? At least to make sure that someone else isn't trying to do what we're doing."

"Good point," Dean concedes. One of the many items in the library is a book of members of the Men of Letters. Charlie using her amazing computer skills looked up all of them and found that apart from the Winchesters and myself, there was no next of kin for most of them. Or if there was, they'd passed on, too. "Alright, so we're off the hook there. Good times. Remi, let's call the bank."

I pull out my phone, ready to call the bank. Charlie searches the bank's number from the website and I dial. "Yes, hello, I'm looking to have my debit cards issued. I have a legacy policy with your bank."

"I'd be happy to help with that," the call center agent replied. "Do you also need to report them lost or stolen?"

I shake my head as if he can see me. "No, um… I'm not sure if you can see the account history, but the last time anyone had access to it, debit cards hadn't been invented yet."

I cringe, hoping he doesn't start asking probing questions. "Oh yes, I do see that. Wow. Looks like there has been a steady stream of deposits, but no withdrawals or other charges in quite some time."

"Yes, the business skipped a generation so to speak, so we're the new owners and we're trying to get everything squared away again."

"Sure thing," he agrees. I could tell he doesn't really care, just wants to get this transaction done so he can move on to the next call. "Ah, not a problem," he replied. "May I have the account numbers?" I read off the numbers from Charlie's screen and wait for him to prompt me with the next questions. "Can you verify the name on the account?"

"Yes, Mike Oscar Lima," I reply, realizing those are the words from the military alphabet, and "MOL" would be Men of Letters.

"Thank you. Looks like your accounts have allowances for multiple holders. Would you like multiple cards issued?"

"Yes, four if you can, please," I reply. He asks me the names to use on the cards. I panic for a moment, not having a clue of the names of the Men of Letters from half a century ago. But then I realize he wasn't asking for names of account holders. Just names to put on the cards. Jeez, what kind of a contract did "Mike Oscar Lima" have with this bank? "Yes, on all four, the last name is Remington. Family business," I answer. "First names are Sam, Dean, Charlie, and Bella. Oh wait, one more. Robert. So that makes five. Is that alright?"

"Yes ma'am, no problem there. I'm sorry, it's asking for non-nicknames or shortened names for Sam, Charlie and Bella. If those are their full names, that's fine, I just need your verification of that," he states.

"Yes, those are all the full names," I respond. I'm not about to have a card that read Isabella Remington, and I doubt Sam wants "Samuel" even if that is his full name; I don't know. Plus, Charlie certainly wasn't short for Charles in her case.

"Excellent, thank you. And where shall I have these shipped to?" I look up at Dean for the answer to that. I don't know if we have a mailbox here, much less what the exact address is. He writes down Bobby's address and I recited it for the rep. "Perfect. Alright, Ms. Remington. These should arrive within 5-7 business days. Should you need access to funds in the meantime, simply fill out a cash withdrawal form at any one of our three thousand locations and provide ID. You'll be able to get cash that way. Did you have anything else you needed assistance with?"

"Um, no, thank you. You were very helpful," I tell him. He thanks me, wishes me a good day, and ends the call. "Wow, that was way easier than I expected it to be."

"No kidding. It's about time we caught a break. We can hit the bank on the way to finding Henry and Abaddon. Right after we make some fake IDs with the last name Remington on them… Why not pick Winchester?" Dean asks.

"Because I figured since Sam and Dean Winchester have been on and off the FBI's most wanted list, and been declared dead and then found alive more than once, that might pose a problem. Robert Singer is a known associate of Sam and Dean Winchester, and Charlie Bradbury is already an alias, so I figured one more couldn't hurt."

Dean frowns in thought. "I guess that makes sense. You think fast on your feet, Sugar."

I laugh. "Yeah, I guess I only had about two and a half seconds to come up with the names. I figured no one has associated Remington with the Winchesters yet, so that was our best bet. Although, Remington being another gun company could prove problematic for anyone with any intelligence in law enforcement."

"Thankfully those individuals are few and far between," Sam jokes.

"Okay, back to the books," Dean orders. "We've got a Knight to gank."

The books we read all center on the same thing we'd discovered at Bobby's. The best way to kill a knight is to use someone related to the meat suit the demon is wearing. Sheer dumb luck that I'm it. I mean, what are the odds of that, even? My ancestor was a woman of letters and happened to be possessed just before being fully inducted into the society. Meanwhile her compatriot, Henry Winchester manages to narrowly escape annihilation by showing up in modern times and finding his grandsons hunting evil and training a newbie… me. I mean… kismet just doesn't quite cover it.

A couple hours later, we have a plan in place. After a quick lunch and packing our go-bags, we're back in the car and on the way to where the craziest demon omens are happening. Charlie and I take up residence in the back seat while the Brothers Winchester ride up front with Dean behind the wheel as usual. "Bella, what if… what if we have to kill your grandmother?" Dean asks. "I mean, you're the only one that can gank this Abaddon bitch. Worst case scenario, you have to kill your grandmother in the process."

"If her body isn't already dead," I reply. "I'm always thinking worst case scenario, Dean. It's how I get through the damn day anymore." If my experiences with the Cullens and all that bullshit hadn't hardened me enough, being in the Fairy Realm certainly did. I caught Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror. His look was a mixture of understanding and despair. Understanding because he's been where I'm at, many times over, I'm sure. Despair because I know he wishes I didn't have to go through all this. My thoughts are how can I become an effective hunter without learning the hard way? These two brothers have literally gone through hell. If they can come out relatively okay, then I can too, dammit.

Our first stop is not far from the bunker at a bank where I can withdraw some cash from our accounts. Being the only one with an ID with the right name on it, only I can get any cash right now. I know the daily withdrawal limit is three hundred on any given account and I figure it'd be easier if I just stock up on cash. I've still quite a bit left over from Edward's money, but no shame in having a horde of bills locked in the trunk of the Impala along with all the weapons. I fill out a withdrawal form for all five accounts and carry them up to the teller.

A few minutes later, I'm walking out with fifteen hundred in mixed bills. I divvy some of it up between the four of us and the rest gets tucked into the trunk with my other cash.

It takes us the better part of a day, but we finally arrive in Montana where the worst of the omens are. After checking into a motel, renting adjoining rooms, and grabbing some grub, we hit the newspaper websites and police station for any information we can on finding Henry.

Turns out there was a drunk and disorderly arrest from the night before. The description of the arrest that the record showed was very strongly indicative that Henry had been upsetting the locals with his talk of Knights of Hell.

"Help you?" the officer behind the desk asks as Dean and I walk in.

We flash our FBI badges. "Agents Rickman and Adams. We're looking for a guy, goes by the name of Henry Winchester," Dean starts. "Heard he might have been arrested for getting a bit too bottle happy last night?"

"Yeah, actually. I know exactly who you're talking about," the officer answers. Dean and I had paired up for this job while Sam and Charlie were busy with their internet searches in case this didn't pan out. "He's in lock up right now. Crazy old coot if you ask me. Keeps talking about time travel and demon knights."

"Sounds like our guy," I reply. "Are you just holding him for drunk and disorderly or has he committed a more serious crime?"

"Nah, just that. Y'all can have him if he's really that important to your case."

I smile. "Thanks officer. He's a witness in one of our big cases. A bit of a nut-job, sure, but you know how it is with these high profile cases. Sometimes it's hard keeping the witnesses alive to testify. After what he's seen… I'm not surprised he went a little batshit, to be honest."

The officer frowns in thought, but then nods and leads us to where they're holding Henry. Upon seeing us he stands up and started spouting off the exorcism ritual at us. "Henry, it's us," I tell him. I give the officer a sympathetic glance. "Clearly he's been hitting the bottles harder than we thought. We'll take care of him."

Once the officer has released Henry from the cell, we guide him by the cuffed hands to the back seat of Dean's impala. Once there, we pretend to swap cuffs and give the officer his back. Henry's hands are free, but he knowingly keeps them behind his back. We thank the officer and head back to the hotel, ever wary of the red-headed demon wench trolling about town.

Back at the hotel, we walk in and Sam immediately stands up to give Henry a hug. I hadn't thought of doing that, neither had Dean it seemed. "Sam, Dean, Bella, I'm so glad to see you. I thought Abaddon had killed you for sure. She said she had."

I shook my head. "Probably just a ploy to get you to give up hope. Stupid really, because then you'd have had nothing to lose, which would have made you that much more dangerous. Anyway, we're not dead and we're here to help. We know how to stop her."

"Sshh!" Henry says, placing his finger over my lips. His eyes dart crazily around the room. "She has ears everywhere. You'll have to write down what you want to say."

"We've warded the room against demons, but okay," Sam relents, deciding not to pick a fight over what we can or can't say out loud.

"Who's this? Henry asks, pointing at Charlie.

"Our friend Charlie," Sam answers. "She's really good with computers. The best, actually."

Henry smiles and shakes Charlie's hand. "Nice to meet you. Well, have you been to the archives?" he asked, looking around at all of us.

Dean nods. "Yep, we just came from there, actually. Been abandoned for half a century. Looked like Abaddon killed all the Men of Letters. After she was done with your sect, she moved on and found all of them. We researched next of kin on each member, and the trail ends with us." Henry looked down. "Ah, Sorry Gramps," Dean adds as an afterthought, awkwardly patting Henry on the back.

"Yeah, he's not so good with the sympathy," I say, cutting Dean a look. "I'm sorry, Henry. If you're any indication, I'm sure they were all really great people, and I promise you we're going to get this bitch."

"How?" he asks, exasperated. I can tell he's exhausted everything he can think of in his attempt to kill Abaddon.

I shrug. "Me."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be the battle with Abaddon.