Author's Note: Okay, so this is the third last chapter, it's coming to a close, finally. Well, not finally, it's just been hard finding time to post. Anyways, hope you like this little offering, and the last post will be tomorrow night.

Chapter 21: Battle Plans

"Morgan, what are you doing?" Dean asked again, glancing quickly behind him to where the demon was smirking, albeit a little curiously, suspiciously, not wanting to trust this sudden turn of events.

"Oh, come on, McKinley," Morgan spat. "You can't seriously be that stupid. You really thought I was dragging my ass along for revenge?"

Dean gave a subconscious growl. "You traitorous bastard, I trusted you!"

Morgan gave an amused chuckle, laughing so deeply that Dean couldn't help but flinch, before glaring at the cop

"I'm going to kill you," he threatened, snarling unwillingly. Morgan laughed once more, eyes crinkling.

"Now that's something I have to learn. Killing a man who's got a gun on you. Neat trick, seriously."

Dean shook his head, taking a step back. "You son of a bitch."

Morgan chuckled again, before glancing around to a struggling Anya. Snorting and throwing her to the ground, the cop pulled his eyes to Dean. "You really are an idiot," Morgan declared. "I've been in on this for ages. How do you think Mahone stayed out of police hands all this time?"

"You good for nothing… you're good at the back stabbing, aren't you?" Dean spat, not willing to believe it. He shook his head again. "Turning against your own kind, you bastard, how could you?"

The man's eyes flicked quickly to the demon, understanding flooding him. Dean nearly gaped, but took another step back instead. Morgan followed him, moving out of Anya's reach.

"It was that or be on the losing side. Besides, being a cop is so… boring. So I gave Mahone what he needed to know. And then Mena found out…" Real anger flared in his eyes, and Dean frowned, stepping back once more. "The instant I found out what you were up to, I knew I had to come along. I just wasn't sure if you'd be fool enough to fall for it."

Dean growled. "I trusted you…" he said again, denial and betrayal coming through in his voice. Morgan grinned.

"I know. And that's what makes this so much fun."

The shot rang out in the night, and Dean flinched as the bullet flew past, even knowing it was coming. And then, as the demon jumped in shock from the sudden bang that echoed in the construction site, the hunter turned and leapt, tackling the supernatural bitch to the ground.

It cried out in shock, and Dean felt a tremor run through it as he rolled away, unharmed, a triumphant grin plastered on his face. A hand appeared in his vision. Morgan's hand. He took it.

By the time Dean had got to his feet, the demon was on its, face contorted by madness. "It was a trick?" it demanded, as disbelieving as Dean had sounded not a moment before. The hunter shared a look with Morgan, who shrugged.

"Yeah, pretty much," Dean told it, turning back. The demon snarled.

"I'll kill you both!" it screamed, launching at them. Morgan flinched, but Dean just grinned as the demon struck an invisible wall and fell back. Then he looked up to one of the few bits of completed roof. The demon looked up with him, but it was Morgan who spoke upon seeing the symbol on the wood above them.

"So you're a hunter?" Morgan asked, looking at him. "No wonder you didn't involve the cops."

Dean felt his jaw drop for real this time. "Does everyone in this town know about this stuff?" he demanded, shaking his head. He looked around as Anya joined them, rubbing her wrists lightly where the ropes had chaffed them. Dean forced his questions down. "We can talk about this later. For now…" For now they had a demon to kill, and his brother to save. He turned his complete attention back to the demon.

"Let me guess," the demon snapped. "You want me to stop your brother from dying, or you're going to send me screaming back to hell?"

Dean nodded. "Pretty much."

"How'd you know he wasn't dead?" Anya demanded, interrupting. The demon gave her an arrogant glance.

"Give me some credit, girl. I'm connected to him. How do you think I recognised him as a Winchester? I know everything that goes on with him." And that last comment was aimed at the older hunter, who frowned as the demon grinned somewhat evilly at him.

Dean felt his blood run cold. "What did you do to him?" he asked, not really wanting to know. Especially when the demon's grin deepened.

"I put a wall around his ability to sense… what's happening to his body, I guess," it told them. "He doesn't feel anything, so his body doesn't respond like it should." Dean swallowed noisily, and the demon chuckled before continuing. "He's fighting me, he is. He just won't be able to do it for much longer."

Dean ignored it, looking everywhere for its weakness, the one Sam had seen. When he couldn't find it, he looked the demon in the eye. "Knock down the wall," he ordered. "Let him heal."

The demon smirked. "Why would I do that?" it asked innocently. Dean growled and turned to Anya.

"You got it?" he asked. She nodded determinedly and pulled a creased piece of paper out of her pocket. With a stubborn glance at a suddenly uneasy demon, she began reading the Latin.

Dean felt his chin rise, felt the anger flooding his veins. Beside him, Morgan grinned, crossing his arms.

Nothing seemed to happen immediately. The demon watched them, eyes growing brighter second by second, but it didn't move, didn't groan, showed no sign of the exorcism affecting it. Dean felt his heart pounding and hoped this would help Sam.

And then it fell to its knees.

Giving a cry, it put its hands against the invisible wall protecting them from it, arching its back and going white. It was strange, watching it press against nothing, but Dean seemed to be the only one noticing. Anya's voice became louder as she put every ounce of loathing she had behind the exorcism.

It screamed suddenly, hands dropping to the ground as it panted heavily, each intake of breath a labour loud in their ears. And then it looked up at them, grinning even as its eyes danced madly with pain.

"Did you say bye bye to your baby brother, Dean?" it asked in a hoarse, shouted whisper, filled with the pounding it was feeling. The hunter walked forward and squatted in front of it, ignoring Anya's voice as she continued to chant.

"I won't have to," he told it softly, glaring at it. "As soon as your dead, that wall's going to disappear, and Sam's going to start getting better."

The demon grinned up at him. "Yeah, but this little exorcism isn't going to actually kill me, is it Dean. It'll send me back to hell, for sure. But I'll still be alive, as far as demons can be. And that wall's still going to be there. Sam's still going to die!""

Sudden understanding hit Dean hard and he jumped to his feet, eyes wide, staggering backwards. "Stop," he ordered breathlessly. Anya didn't though, couldn't hear his strangled whisper.

"Stop!"

She stumbled to a halt as he shouted at her desperately, looking at him like he had gone mad. Morgan was too. "What's the problem?" the cop asked.

"This isn't going to help Sam," he told them breathlessly. The demon's grin deepened as it struggled to its feet. "It'll only ensure his death."

Dean couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier. And he couldn't believe they were in this position.

They were screwed either way though. If he let the demon go, it sure as hell wasn't going to stop Sam from dying. And if he let Anya continue the exorcism, it would go back to hell, but that wall would still be there. Either way he lost his little brother.

He groaned with exasperation, rubbing his eyes as the demon grinned infuriatingly at him. He didn't know what to do. What he wouldn't give to talk to Sam, just for a minute. He had known how to destroy it, Dean was certain of that. But he had no clue.

"Let Sam go," Dean ordered, shocked to hear it come out more as a beg, rather than the cocky, sure commands of a minute ago. The demon chuckled.

"I've got a better idea," it told him. "How about I kill you all?"

The growl was surprisingly loud in the night.

Dean swore under his breath, looking about before turning to Anya and Morgan. He turned to the two, whispering.

"Hellhounds."

Morgan went white, spinning as he heard the growls from all around. "They're real?" he demanded as he turned back to Dean. "What do we do?"

The demon laughed, but Dean spoke over it, keeping his voice calm and strong, not believing Morgan was actually on the verge of breaking down. The guy had been so composed all night, even while pretending to betray them all.

"Get to the car," Dean ordered, giving Morgan a shove. He looked around as Morgan got started, searching desperately for Ash.

Gunshots from a short distance ended his search. The kid's sudden scream chilled his blood.

"Ash!" Anya screamed out, while the demon's laugh just became louder. Cursing, Dean pushed Anya back to the car before she went off after her brother.

"He can look after himself," Dean snapped as Morgan thudded into the car, opening the door and diving in. Further gunshots, this time the bang of a shotgun, showed he was right. "We have to do the same."

He didn't get in after Morgan, but pulled the trunk open and grabbed the two shotguns loaded with rock salt cartridges. He passed one to Anya, trusting her steadiness far more than he trusted Morgan's at this time.

"Shoot where you see the claws," Dean told her, looking to their left. He could just see the room he had had Ash and Anya prepare earlier. Growling, he reached into the car and pulled Morgan out. The demon was still laughing madly, glaring at them all. A hand was beneath his shirt, clutching at something.

Dean almost paused, but a growl to his right made him spin, gun up. The claw marks in the ground were all he needed.

A yelp filled the air as the rock salt hit the demonic hound, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief that it had worked. They had to be there, if the claw marks were, and like when a ghost was shot with rock salt, the mongrel was hurt.

"Anya!" Dean yelled, getting her attention as he heard Ash still firing his gun. Add the growls and yelps of the hellhounds to that, and the once silent construction site seemed a cacophony of noise.

She turned to look at him, and he nodded at the mostly finished room. She looked around to where he was motioning, and nodded with determination. Dean grabbed Morgan by the jacket.

"When I tell you to," Dean instructed, "run to where Anya does. Jump over the door, and don't come out!"

Morgan nodded, some of that attitude coming back into his eyes. He stood up straight and turned as Anya and Dean shared a look. The older hunter nodded, bringing his gun up to cover her.

"Go, Anya!" he shouted, and she sprinted across, two sets of claw marks hot on her tail. Dean aimed and fired, knocking one set of prints off her, and she dived into the room and over the barrier of salt lining the door. She reappeared a moment later, gun ready.

"Go Morgan!" Dean shouted, spinning as he heard movement behind him. He fired the rock salt, knowing it was a matter of life and death.

He missed. The hound jumped on him, sending him sprawling to the ground as it sunk its invisible teeth into his arm.

So, I don't know if rock salt would actually work or not, but goofer dust seemed to deter them pretty well, and they're along the same lines, I guess. Anyways, hope you liked it, I sure did. Two more chapters to go!