A/N : Tissue Alert for this chapter!! Just in case you need to know. Don't say I didn't warn you... LOL And extra big shout out to Deb for her help with this one...it wouldn't be half as good without her positive feedback! ;)

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Medicine Bow, Southern Wyoming.

It was time. As simple as that. There was no huge fanfare, no sparkling cosmic light show to guide the way or indicate that anything was happening.

Certainly nothing to indicate that the end of the world was happening.

The Impala gleamed in the fading light as Dean, Sam and John prepared themselves for war. They'd driven solidly for the last three hours. Following Sam's directions, answering the siren call, the inbuilt homing beacon he had within him thanks to the Yellow Eyed Demon. It had been a trip that was short on conversation, but full of loud, thumping rock music. Dean had insisted it be that way, needing to concentrate on the road, on the fight ahead. He wanted to psyche himself up and just not think, because that led to him thinking of Skye and what could happen.

No. Just….no.

Dean didn't want to think. He wanted to do. He wanted to get there, kick some demon ass and save the freaking day as always. End of story. There was nothing to think about.

"You got everything you need?" John asked, tucking his own gun into the back of his jeans.

Dean held up his favourite handgun and a flask of holy water. "I'd feel happier with a small nuclear weapon…but I'm good to go. Sam?"

"I'm set." Sam nodded, showing his own gun before he tucked it away. He understood the fact that Dean was nervous about this fight, even if he was doing his all, not to show it. They all were. Three against an unknown demon force with Skye potentially caught in the crossfire. The odds weren't on their side that was for sure.

Elise was standing near the front of the Impala and Sam took another hand gun - a small .38 calibre revolver that Dean had picked up somewhere a long time ago - and walked over to her with it. Elise had opted to stay with the Impala and keep Connor safe. Fighting demons was definitely not something she was ready for.

"Here, keep this on you. Anyone but us comes towards you? You point and shoot, okay?" Sam waited until he saw Elise nod. He hated leaving her alone like this. But they were safer here than any closer. The cemetery was just over the rise….barely a five minute walk. If the Hell's Gate opened…the only thing between Elise and Connor and thousands of demons….was the salt ring Dean had put around the Impala to protect them.

They just had to hope it would be enough.

"Let's go." John said grimly, looking towards the cemetery. What was he leading his boys into? Could he keep them safe? There were no guarantees…but then, there never had been.

Elise slid her arms around Sam's waist, her head pressed to his chest. It was a very intimate hug, but after all he had done for her, she wanted him to know she appreciated it. The fact he returned the embrace, albeit a little awkwardly, made Elise smile. "You watch yourself out there…okay?" She stepped back and gave him shaky smile before looking over at Dean and John. "All of you."

Dean nodded to Elise, and then walked around to the driver side of the Impala where Connor was playing with the steering wheel, making quiet car noises. The little boy had been solemnly quiet since they had arrived, as if he understood the depth of what was about to happen. He looked up at Dean, his blue eyes wide and searching. "Dee go now?"

Dean ran his hand over the little boy's blonde hair and smiled. "Only for a little while, okay? I'm going to bring your mom back. You stay her with Elise and keep the car safe for me. You can pick the music, okay? 'Cause that's what the driver does. House rules."

"House roos!" Connor crowed happily bouncing on the seat, his hands still locked on the wheel. Dean stood there for a moment, just watching him, before he heard his father's voice.

"Dean, you coming?"

"Yeah, Dad." Dean gave his car a quick tap on the roof and silently begged her to watch over Connor for him as he followed his father and brother up over the rise towards the cemetery.

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Skye was standing before a large set of metal doors that were built into the only building in the cemetery. It looked like any stone tomb or mausoleum you would find in cemetery, but the heavy iron doors were unlike anything Skye had ever seen before. An intricate pentacle made from bronze, sat in the middle of them, the key to the Hell's Gate, itself.

It didn't matter how much she raged, how much she tried to stop herself, Skye still watched helplessly as she lifted the Colt and moved to slot it into the door.

"Skye! Skye, no!"

Dean? Skye wanted to turn her head, wanted to see if the voice she heard was true, her heart soaring at the sound of it, at the thought of him being there. But she was locked into her command, unable to change direction, turn her head….anything. She hated herself for being nothing more that a puppet.

"Dean! Dean, wait!" John yelled, seeing his eldest break into a run, pouring on the speed as he approached the cemetery, legs pumping as he kept his eyes fixed on Skye. "Dean!"

It was too late. As Dean reached the cemetery limits, the protective barrier that had been set up around the area kicked in and the hunter was thrown back with a flash of bright light. For Dean, he felt as though he had run straight into a brick wall, the air punching out of his lungs, his head snapping back violently a moment before he was tossed backwards through the air and hit the ground hard, a dozen or so yards from the cemetery. He lay on his back, gasping like a fish out of water, trying to comprehend what had happened.

John and Sam reached him quickly, pulling Dean into a sitting position. "Dean? You with us?"

Dean blinked for a moment, his tongue exploring the inside of his mouth before he spat out blood and groaned. "I think so…what the hell was that?"

"The whole area is protected." John replied, feeling the hum in his bones. He knew Sam was feeling the same. "We can't get in there."

"The hell I can't!" Dean growled, struggling to his feet with Sam's help before he shrugged his brother off. "I'm not standing around like some freaking spectator! What the hell is Skye doing?"

"Dean." Sam spoke softly but with tone that instantly caught his brother's attention. "It's not Skye…it's Andy. I can feel it."

"You can feel it?" Dean glared, his tone sceptical but with an undercurrent of fear. What the hell was his brother turning into? "What, you're tuned into them all now? One giant Borg mind?"

The sour look he received was more like Sam. "I can't explain it, Dean. Okay? You're just going to have to trust me on this one. You can do that…can't you?"

"Of course I trust you!" Dean snapped indignantly. "I've always trusted you, Sam."

Sam let it drop, knowing that Dean's fear wasn't anything personal. Hell, after all they had been through, after all Dean had seen. He wasn't at all surprised to have his brother a little scared of what he could do….Sam was scared himself at times. "All I'm saying…is that Skye's not in control. That Gate is opening…we have to move."

"Exactly my thoughts. If you two are done?" John growled. He stalked towards the wrought iron fence that surrounded the place, pausing just outside. "When that Gate opens, watch your back and watch out for each other."

Dean moved to stand beside his father, his gaze locked on Skye, his entire body coiled for the moment the protections were down.

Skye inserted the Colt into the lock, turning it once until it clicked before she stepped back, tears streaking her face as she watched the lock begin to rotate, a rumbling building from the door before her and the ground beneath her feet. In that instant, the hold Andy had imposed on her was gone and Skye was able to back away.

"Skye! Get down! Get behind something!" Dean yelled, his heart pounding as he saw her turn in his direction, their eyes meeting for a moment. "Move, Skye!"

The rumbling was growing by the moment as Skye snapped out of the fear that had her riveted to the spot, watching the doors rattling. Turning away, she ran for the nearest gravestone and crouched down behind it, trembling, wishing she had some sort of weapon. There was no way of knowing what she was about to release and right now, she was still at Ground Zero.

The doors exploded open on their hinges, the Colt sent flying from the lock as an almighty cloud of demons poured from the gate in ever increasing numbers. They would fill the world, make the humans kneel before them, claiming it as their own.

" We need to close those gates…" John was on the move the instant the protections crumbled under the assault of Hell itself. He charged in with Sam and Dean on either side, seeing Azazel casually walking in from the opposite end, smiling like the damn cat that got the cream as demons streamed out of the cemetery around him.

Dean broke off from his father and Sam, heading for the far corner of the cemetery where he had seen the Colt land. They would need that gun if he wanted to take down that demonic son of a bitch for good. Dean found it lying in the long, yellowed grass. Near the grave of a preacher. He couldn't help but find that amusing and wondered if Pastor Jim was watching their backs still in the afterlife?

Dean checked the gun was loaded, even though he knew it had be. Without that last bullet, the gun was ordinary, just another revolver made by Samuel Colt. It needed that last round in the chamber to be the key, to be special. The Yellow Eyed Demon had given Dean the means of killing him.

With the Colt in hand, Dean turned back to where the fight was about to start in earnest. He could see Sam already circling with a young black man in army fatigues, his father struggling to close one of the doors on his own.

"Well, well, well…how did it feel to dance like a puppet on a string? You should have seen your face! Oh I wish I had a camera…it was priceless. A real Kodak moment." Ava sniggered as she casually sashayed up to where Skye was still crouched.

"I was wondering if you were going to stop hiding behind your boss' coat tails. Like a snivelling little bully, hiding behind big brother, hoping he'll do all your fighting for you." Skye said darkly, getting to her feet, her hands clenching into fists. "I've been looking forward to this…"

"Oh come on…Andy's not the only that has control issues, you know. I've got my own little puppets…" Ava placed her forefingers to her temples with a cold smile as she summoned a demon to her bidding.

Skye stepped back, realising she was unarmed against the smoke like form that was beginning to take on the form of a cowboy, probably some gunslinger that had been buried there. This wasn't exactly how it was meant to go….

A figure rushed in, blocking the demon's path to Skye and drawing a scream from the demon as a heavy iron bar, torn from the fence line, slashed through it's midsection, dispersing it momentarily. Skye blinked, her mind taking a moment to catch up and realise that it was Dean standing between her and where the demon had been. He looked over one shoulder, concern burnt into his features. "You alright?"

" Never better." Skye nodded with a relieved smile before she screamed, "Dean! Look out!"

The demon had reformed, grabbing Dean and throwing him backwards into a gravestone, shattering it. The iron bar dropped from his hand as he lay momentarily dazed. Skye made a dive for the bar and snatched it up, then with a cry of anger, she ran not for the demon….but for Ava.

The former secretary barely had time to throw an arm up in defence before Skye brought the iron bar down. A loud crack sounded as Ava's forearm broke and the girl was driven to her knees. She looked up as Skye raised the bar again. "You told me my son was dead, you bitch. "

With a swing that would make a major league batter proud, Skye swung the bar, connecting it with Ava's head and watching as blood sprayed.

The demon Ava had been controlling instantly fled, returning to the ranks that were escaping Hell.

Ava toppled to the ground bonelessly, but Skye wasn't done. Not yet. She hit Ava again and again…for lying to her, for making her son cry, for setting up Sam and hurting Dean.

A hand caught the bar behind her as Skye went to swing it again, shaking and crying.

" Hey…Skye, stop! She's dead…she's dead…let it go."

Skye twisted to see Dean there, stopping her and released her grip on the bar, allowing him to pull her into a tight embrace, listening to the sound of his voice as he spoke softly to her, just holding onto him and knowing he was there.

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"It doesn't have to be like this. Just walk away. You can go back to who you were. You don't have to let the Yellow Eyed Demon win." Sam spoke calmly as he circled his opponent, his gun aimed at the man. He didn't know this guy's story or even his name, but he didn't want to think it was a lost cause. If he could just get through to him.

" What? You'd be happy to walk away from everything you ever wanted and just go back to be Joe Normal again?" Jake demanded. " Boy, was Azazel ever stupid to pick you as his front runner. You've got no spine, no back bone. You sound like summer camp counsellor, spewing all that crap, man. I'm not interested. I'm on the winning side already." He cocked his head to the side, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. "Don't you feel it, Sam? The pull? All that Power? Don't you want it? Man, how can you just turn your back on what you are? What you're meant to become?"

Sam could feel it alright. It was coiling through his veins like a thousand tiny adders, whispering in his mind with the sound of a million voices all begging for him to lead, proclaiming him their saviour. Their Master.

It was intoxicating. Giving Sam a heady rush as if he'd drank too much. The pull was so strong, every cell in his body humming to the call, to the want, the need. He wanted to spill blood, wanted to make people beg at his feet while he laughed. For a moment, Sam could see it. He saw himself standing before a huge crowd, listening to them scream his name, begging for mercy that he would never give. Feared, loathed and adored by millions.

"Listen to it, Sam…you really want to turn your back on that?" Jake said quietly from behind him.

Sam had lowered his guard, so intent on the pull he could feel, that Jake had gotten in close to him, close enough that as Sam spun to face the man, he felt a sharp, white hot pain in his stomach. Looking down, it took Sam a moment to connect what he was seeing with the pain he was feeling.

There was a knife in his stomach, Jake's hand still holding the hilt as he twisted it. Sam grunted as the pain sharply blazed through his body like an electric current, setting everything on fire and forcing him to his knees.

Jake tore the blade from Sam's stomach and stepped back. "Nothing personal, Sam…I'm just trying to climb the chain of command…"

There was so much blood, pooling in Sam's hands as he held his stomach, trying to draw breath.

"SAM!"

Jake's head snapped up as he heard the deep agonised bellow and saw John Winchester abandoning the door he had been trying to close, moving to help his son instead.

This wasn't happening. No. John was not going to lose Sam. The wound Jake had inflicted was deep, fatal if it wasn't seen to. That much John could see as he ran for the man that had attacked his son. His gun wasn't even an afterthought now. John was going to tear Jake limb from limb with his bare hands.

There was the sound of material ripping as a set of huge, inky black wings manifested from John's back, shredding the back of his shirt, unfurling with a the sound of thunder rolling down a mountain.

Jake felt his mouth run dry, backing away from Sam and brandishing the knife before him futilely as he watched John striding towards him like an oncoming storm.

Sam tried to lift his gun, finding his arm trembling, his strength failing. He wanted to put a bullet through Jake, take the back of this skull off with one round… if he could only raise his gun high enough. His other hand was still pressed to his stomach, feeling the blood pumping through his shirt, through his fingers. "Dad…." His voice was shaky, framed with fear.

"I got this, son. It's gonna be okay." John promised Sam as he reached his son and kept advancing on Jake, watching the fear in the man's eyes, the shake of his hand as he held the knife. " You think that pigsticker's going stop me, boy? You think your training is going to save you?"

Jake's gaze flickered to the knife, then back to John. The man was like something out of a nightmare. His eyes promised retribution, his wings snapping the air around him like snakes ready to strike.

"I was humping packs in Nam before you were an itch in your father's underwear. You're way out of your league….." John promised Jake, still hearing the sound of Sam's voice, the little boy tone to it, wanting his father to help him, to fix this. It was reassuring to John, that no matter how much he had fought with Sam, how many mistakes he had made in the past….Sam looked to his father still when things were bad.

John wasn't about to let that faith be misplaced. He took three steps and then launched himself at Jake, tackling the man around the waist and lifting him off the ground, driving them both back across the cemetery as John's wings carried them easily.

Lifting the knife, Jake brought it down into John's right shoulder blade, stabbing blindly again and again at the only part of John he could get any real access to.

The pain was immediate and intense, causing John to change course, his right shoulder dropping as he began to lose altitude. He tucked his head down and let his wings beat faster, propelling them towards his target, pushing through the pain in a single minded effort to take down the man who had stabbed his baby boy.

Jake twisted in John's grip, looking over his shoulder and seeing the wrought iron fence rushing towards him at an incredible rate. He barely had time to plunge the knife into John one last time, before John pushed him away and towards the fence. The pair were still too locked together by the blade in Jake's hand for John to get away clean and as the pair collided with the fence, the winged hunter felt the burning blow torch pain of an iron bar piercing through the fleshy part of his arm, another through his left wing, pinning him to the remains of the fence. John looked at his wounds, feeling warm blood sliding down his back, the knife still driven in to the hilt in his shoulder. A coughing laugh shook him as he found himself thinking of how he had to look, pinned like a freaking butterfly in some scientist's bug collection.

Hanging, shuddering nearby, Jake hadn't fared so well. He had a metal bar through his throat, another through his chest, piercing his right lung. The man twitched and kicked for a moment longer, then finally stilled, the air hissing out of him quietly.

"Dad!" Sam was stumbling towards them, still clutching his stomach, relief clear on his face as his father fixed him with a shaky smile, then nodded to where his arm was pinned. "Sam, help me get me the fuck off this fence, will you?"

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"Come on, Connor…can I just change the tape? I'll put on something you like…" Elise pleaded, needing a break from AC/DC. It was all that had been played on the way from Denver and after looking through his tape collection - who the bloody hell had tapes anymore?- Elise knew that Dean's tastes were a little broader than just classic Aussie rock. Not that she wasn't a huge fan…even just changing that particular tape for another AC/DC album would be enough.

"No!" Connor shook his head firmly. "House roos!"

" Alright, mate…alright." Elise sighed, leaning her arm out the window and staring in the direction of the cemetery. She was worried sick about Sam and the others. For the last few minutes, a huge surging cloud had been seen, rushing away from the cemetery, filling the night sky. Elise didn't have to be told what it was to know it was bad news. Thankfully, Connor hadn't seen it at all, too busy bouncing to AC/DC and pretending to drive the Impala to have noticed.

A lone figure approached out of the darkness and Elise straightened in her seat, praying it was Sam. But no, it was a girl with long blonde hair in black leather. Hugging herself and walking a little unsteadily. Was this Skye? Had she gotten away some how? Elise couldn't be sure…but there was just something about the situation that didn't sit right with her.

She learned over past Connor and pushed down the locks on his side of the car, then locked her own, bringing up the revolver Sam had left her as she leaned slightly out of the window. " Hold it right there, mate. Who are you?"

"Please…you've got to help me. Sam sent me to come get you. He needs you. Please…"

"What's happened?" Elise's hand went for the door handle without thinking. " Is he okay?"

" He's hurt…Dean's dead. It's all gone to hell down there…please…let me in." Lily pleaded, laying it on thick with the pain in her voice, stumbling a little as she reached the car.

Elise had almost opened the door, when she saw Lily pause outside the salt ring around the car, before she bent down, picking up a short stick from the ground and dragging it through the line that was blocking her way.

"What the hell are you-…oh shit!" Realisation hit Elise like a punch to the solar plexus. This was no ordinary girl. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, her heart pounding like a triphammer. There was no Sam. No Dean. No John. Elise was alone and she was in charge of keeping Connor safe. It was all up to her.

Frantically trying to wind up the window again, Elise slid across the bench seat away from Lily as the girl reached the door and slid her arm through. Connor hid behind Elise, starting to cry as he saw the angry look on the strange woman's face.

" Let me in your little bitch…I just need to touch you and that snivelling little shit…that's all. You won't feel a thing…my girlfriend didn't. Her heart stopped instantly.."

Elise was only inches from Lily's outstretched hand when she suddenly made her move, taking a huge risk and jamming the gun as close as she could to the girl's head before she pulled the trigger rapid fire, until the clicking of hollow chambers was all that could be heard.

Lily tumbled backwards and slid out of sight, the back of her head gone.

Dropping the gun as if it would bite her, Elise turned to Connor and hugged the little boy, trying to soothe his screams. "She's gone, Connor….its all over, matey…it's okay." She would need to redo the salt line, but not until she had calmed down Connor.

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" Dean Winchester, you've been a real thorn in my side…"

Dean let go of Skye, his hand instantly diving into his jacket for the Colt. He had the gun cocked and aimed all in one fluid motion as he turned towards the Yellow Eyed Demon. The bastard that had taken his mother, taken his father and made him into a demon….tried to steal his little brother. Ruined their lives.

Dean owed this bastard pain….in spades. It was time to end it.

Lifting his hand, Azazel grinned as the gun was torn from Dean's grasp and somersaulted through the air towards his own hand. " Boys shouldn't play with Daddy's guns….that's how people get hurt."

Without hesitation, Azazel aimed the Colt and pulled the trigger, watching with cold satisfaction as the bullet punched through Skye's chest……straight through her heart.

Dean looked on in horror as Skye collapsed without a word, blood soaking through her shirt. He dropped to his knees, forgetting all about the Demon, everything fading out except for Skye in that moment. He dragged her into his arms, searching her face, feeling for a pulse, his mind refusing to accept what it was seeing, what had happened. "No…no, no, no, no. Skye…don't do this. Not now…I got you back. You're safe now…"

"Being seeing you round, Dean…" Azazel grinned, watching the grief already filling the boy's face. Oh, he would have loved to have stayed and watch. What were they going to do to him? The Colt was useless now. The last bullet spent. He'd won.

But there would time to celebrate later. Right now, he had to go and rally the troops. Work, work, work…so little time for fun. The demon casually walked away from the cemetery, whistling merrily.

"Skye? Skye look at me…please?" Dean's voice broke as he pleaded with her, holding her close and feeling the dead weight of her body. No…don't say that. Not that word. Skye was going to be okay. She had to be okay. Dean had just found her. She'd been in his arms, so warm, so full of life. He was going to take her back to Connor and watch the way the little boy lit up as the sight of his mother.

It was all supposed to be happy now, right? That was how it worked… good won…evil lost.

But it was all wrong now. Looking around, Dean could see nothing had been won here. Hell was open, demons still rushing out into the world. Skye was lying lifeless in his arms and Dean had never even had a chance to tell her what he needed to. They'd had no time. Where was the Hollywood moment? The last goodbyes?

This was just cold, hard death. The warmth already leaving her body, the life gone from her eyes.

How was Dean going to face Connor? How could he go back to that little boy…a kid Dean wished with all his heart was his own son, because he was so cool and sweet and just the greatest thing ever…..and tell Connor that his mother was dead? Dean knew that pain. That loss. It tore you open, left you hollowed out for life.

How could he let that happen to Connor?

The Demon had taken another person Dean loved. Had torn open his life again and left a bloody, ragged wound that would never heal…

Pulling back to look at her, Dean ran a hand over Skye's face tenderly, smoothing back her long dark hair, tracing her cheek with one finger. Tears were brimming his eyes, one slipping free to splash down on Skye's face and it was the fact she didn't blink, didn't flinch or react at all that truly drove home to him that she was gone.

Cradling Skye against him again, Dean began to rock before he let out a guttural, heart-torn scream that echoed around the cemetery…..

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New Chapter will be up in the next couple of days I'm hoping guys...hang in there, the angst isn't over yet...