SUPERNATURAL

THE PARCAEX RUTUAL

Note – Thanks for reading, here's the fourth chapter. Read, Review and Enjoy ^_^

Chapter Four

Abandoning the car, Sam and Bobby set out on foot two blocks from the house, taking with them their duffel bag filled with sulphur and many bottles of Holy water – Bobby had been busy while Sam was driving. They had enough of the sacred liquid to fight off an army.

They just wished that it would enough to defend them against Lilith.

You can't have everything in life, Sam thought miserably.

The night was cold, the grass beneath their feet wet with dew and their breath exhaled in wisps of icy vapour, silhouetted against the moon as they moved ever closer to their destination.

'Do you think we'll run into them at the house?' Sam asked, deciding to walk down on the road in preference the grass – his shoes were soaked from the watery turf.

'I don't know, Sammy,' Bobby said. 'We'll just have to wait and see.'

Stopping at the corner of the street and glancing around suspiciously, Sam looked upon an old and familiar sight. 'I don't think we'll have to wait very long.'

Keeping their eyes peeled in alert, the two of them approached the house slowly and with great care, constantly looking over their shoulder and expecting an ambush with each passing second.

'We're probably just being paranoid, aren't we, Bobby?'

Bobby turned to him. 'No, this isn't paranoia. It's precaution.'

'How do we know that Dad ever actually found the Manuscripts? And if he did, we don't know that he's hidden them in our old home, especially since it's the one place we'd all sworn never to go back to if we could help it. We lost too much behind those walls.'

Bobby sighed sympathetically. 'Knowing your father, he would never have rested until he'd found those Scripts. And I have good reason to think that he left them in that house.'

'And what's that?'

'Well, do you remember that job you and your brother were working back here when you were searching for John?'

'Yeah, of course,' Sam answered, 'I could never forget it. That was the first time that I'd ever properly seen my mother - and not in a photograph – even if she was just a spirit. She saved Dean and I from a homicidal poltergeist.'

'And you were helped by a psychic that John used to be in contact with?'

Sam frowned. 'Yeah, why?'

'Well, after I'd heard about this, I went back searching for the psychic myself, while I was also looking for your father. This was three months later, though.

'I found her. She told me all about your mission, and also remembered that not long after you'd left town, your father came to see her. She told him all about what you boys had done, and he began asking odd questions about the house.'

'Questions?'

'Yes, Sammy, questions. Like how long she expected the house to remain uninhabited for after the owners moved out – she had prophesised their departure soon after the events of that night. Apparently there's a local legend around here now that the house is haunted. Stories seemed to have spread about what happened to that family, and about the night it burned down twenty-six years ago.

'But she couldn't predict the exact time, so John assumed for himself that nobody would dare to live there for another few years at the very least.

'I believe John had hidden the Manuscripts inside the house and performed a number of rituals to keep any demons or thieves from stumbling on them. I think he wanted to make sure that the job was done before he came looking for you boys, so that he wouldn't be distracted from his work.'

Sam nodded, but didn't make any comments.

Was that really the reason why he had refused to be found? Did he come back once he'd found the Manuscripts? Did he even find them?

They were right outside the house now, and a terrible sense of foreboding washed over Sam as he and Bobby approached the front door.

They didn't stop to consider the possibility of someone being home, for they hadn't seen a single person since they had crossed the state border, and they doubted that the streets were about to simply flood with people again. The question of what had happened to them all had not lingered for very long – they had seen stranger things in their lifetime.

Turning the handle, Bobby was surprised to see the door swing right open.

Sam looked at it curiously, 'Whoever was in here last doesn't seem to have bothered to lock-up before they'd all spontaneously and simultaneously decided to disappear off the face of the earth.'

'Apparently.'

They crossed the threshold into the house, closing the door behind them and quickly setting off to search the downstairs bedrooms and make sure that they were alone.

'Sam,' Bobby called to him from across the hall, 'does this house have some kind of basement, or an area you think John would have found suitable to store the Manuscripts?'

Sam appeared from his right. 'Well, I found nothing down my end. Unless somebodies defying this lack of population somehow – we're in the clear.'

'And the basement?'

'Never had one.'

Bobby frowned. 'There's got to be-'

'Wait,' Sam began slowly, 'There's no basement, but there is an attic upstairs, if I remember right.'

Without another word, the two of them climbed the staircase onto the second level, silently signalling to one another and moving off to perform another search. Once they had concluded that the house was empty of life – except for them, of course – they moved into the largest bedroom.

Sam stopped for a moment and drew in a deep breath – he still wasn't entirely content with being inside the house that had caused him so much pain in the past.

Bobby walked forwards and pulled down the retractable staircase, easing it down as its structure unfolded to the floor.

After glancing up into the darkness of the attic, Sam stepped up two stairs and crouched down, squinting at a few miniscule symbols etched into the wooden banister. It seemed that this was indeed where his father had stored the Ancient Manuscripts that he'd kept a secret for all this time.

Cautiously, Sam ascended the staircase into the attic, becoming immersed in the darkness and blindly fumbling for a light.

'Bobby, come help me, would you?'

'Uh, Sam?'

'Yeah?'

'Come and have a look at this.'

Abandoning his attempts to find a light switch, Sam moved back towards the faint light below. He stopped at the top of the staircase and looked down to see Bobby still at the bottom, his hand stretched out in front of him.

'What-'

'I can't get through, Sammy.'

'Oh.'

'For some reason you can, but I can't. It's like an invisible brick wall surrounding the staircase – your father must have placed a ritual of some sort to keep common thieves from entering, too.

Sam frowned, and descended again to look more closely at the symbols scratched into the wood. It took him a few moments, but he sighed after realising what it meant.

'What?'

'Bobby, this is a Hestian symbol.'

'Oh, right,' Bobby rolled his eyes. 'Of course John would have used them. They're in all kinds of warding rituals; it seems to have worked, huh?'

Sam nodded, 'It comes from Hestia, the Pagan Goddess of Hearth and Home. Basically it means that somebody whom isn't related by blood to the one that performed the ritual cannot pass that point.'

'So – what? I'm supposed to just sit here and wait for you?'

'I won't be long, Bobby.'

He walked back into the attic before Bobby could retaliate. After a minute of further fumbling, he found the switch at last and a weak light illuminated the room from a lamp hanging in the rafters.

The entire space was overcrowded with miscellaneous and useless items – it was just one large dumping ground for belongings previous families didn't want, he guessed.

Old boxes, crates and piles of old magazines littered the ground, rising in stacks to the ceiling. Papers were strewn untidily across the floor-space and the room smelled nauseatingly like dead rat.

Well, it's as good a place as any, Sam thought, attempting to cover his nose to block out the sickening smell as he kept on walking in search for the Ancient Manuscripts.

He didn't have to look for long.

At the far end of the attic, set right in the centre of a Devils trap with a diameter of no less than three metres lay a small, black box. Sam approached it cautiously, eyeing the Devils Trap in front of him.

If I have the power to use the Manuscripts, he thought, edging closer to the trap, that mean's I have demon blood in my veins. If I have demon blood… will this Devil Trap apply to me, too? He hesitated, moving his foot ever closer. Should I try? I mean, it's not as if Bobby can take my place, and we need this…

He gulped, took a deep breath and stepped forward one step, placing his left foot into the trap. Then another question arose in his mind.

Would I be able to draw back now, since I'm only halfway into the circle? If I were a Demon, what would happen?

Either way, he didn't think it mattered. He had to get that box.

Sam stepped forward into the circle so that his entire body was now within it, and sincerely hoped that he would be able to get back out again. The prospect of it was disturbing him, and he felt slightly claustrophobic, even with no conclusive means of being so.

What if a demon had claustrophobia? He thought suddenly. Would they be afraid of a Devils Trap? If the trap were out in the open, would they feel like they were in an enclosed space, since they can't actually see the walls?

Confusing himself, Sam reached back the way he had come to see if he was actually concealed.

And sighed with relief. He was in the clear.

Remembering that Bobby was waiting for him back downstairs, Sam hurried forward towards the black box, noticing Ansazi symbols etched into the dark metal, a well known protection against supernatural beings.

Looking around the room, Sam saw many faint clues of rituals and defensive symbols. Impressed, he knew that even Lilith couldn't penetrate these walls.

It seemed that Bobby had been right – the Manuscripts did exist.

'I don't believe this,' Sam whispered to himself, kneeling down and unbuckling the box's latches, lifting the lid to see what it held.

Not entirely convinced at whether what he heard was a figment of his imagination or not, Sam thought that when he had lifted the lid of the black box a feint, ghostly wail had escaped from within.

Feeling unsafe and quite edgy up there all alone, Sam got barely more than a glimpse of the Manuscripts lying inside the box before closing the lid and picking it up. It was incredibly heavy for its size, but he managed to get a decent grip upon it and carry it across the attic surface towards the staircase.

Bobby sat leaning against the bedroom wall, looking impatient and annoyed.

'What took you?' he grumbled.

Sam didn't answer, as the two of them became immediately interested in the black box that he lay on the table in front of them. Sam opened the box and took his first proper look at the Manuscripts of Vanatuhi, inside.

Reaching in, he pulled out a few fragile sheets of parchment that were clearly ancient. The inscriptions written upon the manuscript were of a language Sam had never heard before.

'How are we supposed to read this thing?' Bobby asked, looking down at the odd symbols written on the page and looking even more confused that Sam was.

They hadn't expected something like this. 'Well,' Sam said, 'It was written thousands of years ago by the Estonian God Vanatuhi, so…'

'So… what?'

Sam grinned, 'We're going to have to start researching ancient Estonian languages.'

Bobby groaned, 'Brilliant. But that's only if we manage to get out of this place alive first, before Lilith and her army of Demons get their hands on us.'

'Well aren't you just a glass half full?' Sam scowled sarcastically, 'Have you got a plan?'

'Er… something like that.' He replied.

Sam looked through the Manuscripts again, a wondrous gaze in his eyes. 'It's strange, isn't it?' he whispered. 'How something so powerful can seem so utterly insignificant to ones eye. Someone looking down on us right now would never suspect that we held in our hands the most powerful weapon in the world.'

Bobby moved to the window, pulling the curtains aside and peering down onto the streets. 'That depends on who's watching.'

Sam nodded. 'Anything?'

He shook his head, 'Not that I can see, there-' he suddenly stopped.

'What is it?'

He turned to Sam, beckoning him over. 'Take a look for yourself. I don't think we're going to be escaping from here anytime soon.'

Sam abandoned the scripts, sitting them safely back into the box and moving over beside Bobby at the window.

No less than twenty demons stood on the pavement below, their deep black eyes staring up at them, wide grins upon their faces.

Sam swore.

Bobby sighed, 'Looks like we'll be camping here tonight.'

****

Sam and Bobby knew they couldn't hide like this forever, but while they had some time to spare they lay in the living room downstairs attempting to decipher the inscriptions upon the scripts.

And failing miserably.

With very little food, no proper weapons, a stubborn manuscript and an army of Demons surrounding the entire house, Sam was beginning to have doubts about their success.

'It's no use Bobby,' he said, enclosing the Manuscripts in the box once more, 'I can't figure out what those symbols mean, and we just don't have the right resources,' he sighed. 'How are we supposed to use a document that neither of us can read?'

'I think we should worry about that later. For now, lets concentrate on our next move.'

'Which is… what?'

Bobby shrugged, 'Getting out of here without being torn apart by Demons.'

Sam forced a shallow laugh, 'And do you have any ideas on how exactly we're going to do that? They've blocked every exit and I doubt they're going to be giving up anytime soon.'

Bobby stood and walked to the window, peering through the thin layer of curtain outside. 'Even Demons have to rest.'

Bobby returned to the couch and put his feet up, sighing. The best that could be said about all this was that it gave both he and Sam time to catch up on their energy deprivation.

Breaking the silence, Sam asked in curiosity, 'What does Lilith actually need to perform the Parcaex Ritual?'

Bobby didn't bother holding anything back now. Their fears had been confirmed, but there was hope at least for Dean, no matter how fast it was diminishing. All they needed was an escape route. 'The Manuscripts of Vanatuhi as you know, and the colt, which we know she has thanks to Bela. The final element to the Ritual is a tribute – a Demon sacrifice. But since Lilith is too stubborn to do herself in…'

There was a moment of silence.

'Ruby,' Sam whispered.

Bobby nodded.

Sam pouted. 'They're going to sacrifice Ruby for the Parcaex Ritual?'

'I think so. Come on, Sam, you can't be feeling sorry for her now. She's a Demon, and that's all there is to it.'

Sam didn't have the energy to retaliate. Ruby wasn't like other Demons – she was a liar and manipulator, yes, but she had saved both his and Dean's lives on countless occasions. Sam felt a strong guilt settle in his stomach at the thought of that. He felt as if he were condemning a close friend, an ally who had aided them so often, to die by not helping her.

He just couldn't let that happen.

But what could he do about it?

****

Dean and Bella sat on the harsh concrete surface, having taken refuge in a basement of some sort beneath the New Harmony Base Hospital, and bordering up their entrances and exits, clinging to the small strand of hope that they could last the night without something happening.

Complete and utter fear coursed through their veins – definitely not the most comfortable way to live.

The space they had chosen seemed to be something of a storage space for old documents and files – records of past patients.

Bela had chosen the place, and suggested the immense precautions they had gone to, to protect themselves. Dean just stared at her in amazement. She did it fluently as if an everyday habit – which, he reminded himself, it probably was.

'You stay down here a lot?'

Bela finished barricading the door and walked over to him. 'Just the past two days.'

'Where were you the rest of the time?'

'Anywhere,' she waved her hand around, 'everywhere. it's very hard to find a safe and secure place – especially one that nobody else is using. I've had to move places many times. After a few days it becomes unsafe, and the risk of being caught is much greater.'

Dean stared. 'Uh… don't you think it's strange how well you fit into this place?'

Bela glared at him. 'Dean, we're not on Earth anymore-'

'Yeah, Yeah, I've heard your story,' he interrupted. 'Nothing is as it seems – I get it.'

Bela nodded. 'Precaution is necessary.'

'But this much of it?'

'Whatever gets you through the night,' she grinned, 'Quite literally.'

Dean scowled at her. 'What could possibly happen to us, besides the torture? I mean, come on, we can't die – we're already dead!'

Bela looked away, 'No, Dean, there's much worse.'

'But you're not going to tell me, are you?'

'Nope.'

Dean tossed away the loose piece of cement that he was fingering, muttering offensive terms under his breath.

Bela looked up at him. 'I'm not deaf, you know.'

Dean didn't answer.

She sighed, 'Dean, if we're going to be stuck together for all this time, you've got to get over this hatred you have for me.'

Dean forced a laugh, which came out as little more than an awkward choke and splutter.

'I'm sorry to tell you this, Hun, but you and I, we're not going to be spending as much together as you think.' He stood up, beginning a slow pace around the room. 'Soon enough you'll be back on your own, just the way you like it.'

'Oh, is that right?' Bela growled, 'I supposed you think that your dear brother will just come marching down here and save you like the extraordinary hero he is, then drag you back to the world to live happily ever after?'

Dean scowled, 'He will-'

'Find a way? You really think so? If you honestly think that Sam can save you now, I'm afraid that you're delusional. Even if you did manage to escape somehow, you would just be dragged on your sorry arse back down again. Remember, you sold your soul that day you saved Sam, and you can't exist on the outside without one.'

'No problem,' Dean laughed, trying to reassure himself, 'Sam will track down Lilith and personally slaughter the son of a bitch, and get my soul back.'

Bela shook her head sadly, 'Dean, you're clueless. Lilith held the contract of your deal, not your soul itself.'

Dean stopped, puzzled. 'Then who…?'

'There is a higher power in this place that neither you, nor any other hunter in the world has ever encountered before – though he is probably the most famous evil that ever existed.'

'What is it?'

Bela sighed. 'This creature is no mere Demon. It's hell – alive and in the flesh. The leader of the Demons, lord of this world, and he goes by the name of Lucifer.'

Dean choked on his own oxygen, staring up at Bela for some sign, any hint of false in her eyes. He found none. 'Lucifer?' he shook his head, 'No way, that's not possible. We would have heard something about the freaking Devil if he was actually real, don't you think?'

'Of course you wouldn't. You Hunter-types are so oblivious in your arrogance that you tend to miss the big picture. I didn't believe it myself when I first heard it. The idea of Satan – the Devil himself – actually existing sends a chill down my spine.'

'Then how do you know he's real?'

She shook her head, 'You'll find out, soon enough.'

'Find out-' Dean went red, but didn't bother trying to argue. He knew he'd just end up strangling her, anyway. 'So he's the one that owns my soul?'

'Yes,' Bela answered, glad that she was finally getting somewhere with him, 'As well as mine and everybody else who has ever made a deal. Those desperate souls are the very foundation of Demons – the first humans ever to cross the veil between Hell and Earth since the fall of Lucifer.

'But back to the point. If you remember that day you opened the Devils Gates in Wyoming, when your father escaped-'

'-How do you know about that?' Dean asked suspiciously.

'You'd be surprised at how much I know. The information is easy to come by if you have the right bargaining tools. Anyway, the only reason your Dad's physical body could not exist outside of Hell like all the other escapees is because you can't live on Earth without your soul, and Lucifer held your Dad's as well. It is a well-known fact that Lucifer's rage at your father was exponentially terrifying after that event, and he hasn't been seen since. The name of John Winchester is now a curse for anybody who is heard saying it aloud.'

He was tempted to ask her where exactly his father was, but he decided that Bela wouldn't know, or wouldn't tell him in any case. But now that he understood a little better, he sat there in silence thinking about everything he'd just heard. But, of course, he still had more questions for her.

'What was that place I was in – or vision, whatever… What was it?'

Bela shrugged. 'If you haven't realised yet, I'd say you're a complete idiot – but this is just a complete replica of Earth, only with a few extra strings thrown in.'

'How so?'

'What you saw, it's just one of the many tricks this place can pull. It can take you anywhere at any given time; it can show you things like the past, present, future and things that aren't actually real at all – just visions designed to mess with your head. Which is, of course, their long-term goal.'

'What, screw with me so much that I forget my humanity and become a Demon?'

She sighed, standing up. 'Get some rest, Dean. We've got to move out of here after the sun rises; it won't be safe for long.'

As much as his inner arrogance refused to accept it, Dean knew that he'd have to wait if he wanted to figure this place out. It wasn't comfortable where he lay, but compared to twenty-four hours between a set of chains and meat hooks all attempting to rip you to a thousand pieces, a cold and rough wooden floorboard was a large improvement.

He couldn't sleep, but the feeling of closing his eyes and attempting to forget his misery was enough for him. Not that it entirely worked, but it eased his pain, even if only slightly.

All had been silent for little more than two minutes when Dean's body suddenly spasm in shock, wincing at the shooting pains that soared through his head like blunt needles. The pain ceased almost as soon as it had come, and Dean lay back down, passing it off as a minor headache.

But as usual, his assumption turned out wrong-

'Hey!' Dean grumbled, 'That is so not true.'

Shut up, I'm telling the story.

But as usual, his assumption turned out wrong, and he quickly Dean sat up again, clutching at his temple, the pain growing worse with each second.

'Dean?' Bela abandoned her watch and rushed over to him, 'Dean, what is it?'

'Headache,' he mumbled, cringing in agony and screaming.

'Oh shit,' Bela suddenly became anxious. 'It's them. Quickly, Dean, take me with you. Grab my arm!'

Doing as he was asked, he threw his arm blindly out and caught Bela's, the pain becoming excruciating. There was a blinding flash of white light and once again he was thrown into darkness.

****

'This place just keeps getting weirder.'

'Dean, it's Hell,' Bela replied from beside him, 'What'd you expect?'

'Uh, a pit of burning stakes, molten hot lava and endless physical torture? What else?'

Bela laughed. 'Humans, they're all pathetic.'

'Oh yeah?'

'They think they've got this whole "afterlife" thing pinned down, when actually they have no idea.'

'What about the torture and pain? They seem pretty sure on that, and it's not wrong.' He rubbed at his shoulder, where he could still – mentally – feel it being torn apart in his memory.

'Legends and myths Dean, that's all it is. Humans themselves make some up, but many – as you already know – are quite true. The myth of Hell is like a continuous Chinese Whisper. It was formed and then released upon the world, but over thousands of years, it slowly wears away; new ideas are strung to it through each generation, until there is only a fraction of truth left.'

'So the Devil doesn't actually have a pitch-fork?'

She ignored him, standing up and surveying their surroundings with curiosity. Dean wasn't used to all of this just yet, and was still slightly light-headed from the sudden transportation.

'Where are we?' Bela asked.

'I was hoping you could tell me that,' Dean replied sourly. But there was something about this place that felt oddly familiar to him – he just couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

The earth beneath them was dirt and dust, but bushland surrounded them on either side, and an old railway track - clearly not in operation - stretched into the distance further than his eyes could see.

A rustling of leaves behind them made Bela and Dean jump. There was no wind – in fact, the air was filled with odd, perhaps toxic, fumes nothing like Dean had ever inhaled on Earth, which he just passed off as another one of Hell's heavenly traits – so they assumed that whatever it was, was alive and moving.

He wants me to come, he's waiting for me.

Dean frowned. Either he was going mad, or voices unlike his own just echoed through his mind.

I've done the deed.

There it was again. But Dean didn't move a muscle, and just kept his eyes focused directly ahead of him. After a moment of intense waiting, a figure emerged from the shadows, a gun held firmly in his grasp and moving forward cautiously. Stepping into the faint moonlight, Dean caught a glimpse of a face he recognised instantly.

'No way,' He whispered. 'Sammy?'

'Dean, he can't hear you.'

Dean knew this. He'd experienced something similar only hours before. Sam looked around for a moment and then continued on.

If Dean wakes up, he'll come after me. I must be careful.

The voices continued, and Dean realised, gasping. They were Sam's thoughts! Anxiety and immense curiosity pounding through him, Dean followed closely at his brother's heels.

'Dean, wait!' Bella pulled him back, grabbing his jacket. 'You might not want to see what happens here.'

'Why not?'

'Because you're hearing his voice – his thoughts – in your head, Dean, aren't you?'

Dean was wondrous at how she knew this, and just stared at her.

'That's because this, in all likelihood, is an event that really happens,' she continued, 'And in Hell, nothing is ever good.'

'I don't care.'

She sighed. 'Dean, if you follow Sam now, you may go on to witness the death of your brother. If not, well I can assure you that the sight will not be pretty.'

'I don't care, Bela,' he repeated. 'Even if it means I have to watch him die,' he said that with a heavy heart, 'at least I'll know how it happened. That is consolation in itself.'

'Not in here it won't be. If he dies, it will not be peaceful.'

'I'm going.'

She didn't stop him, but sighed deeply before moving on. Dean was shocked at the seriousness in her tone, and wondered what she had seen in her time that made her so fearful.

Catching up, they walked beside Sam for over an hour, and Dean felt chills run down the back of his neck whenever the voice of his brother appeared in his mind.

At last, the three of them emerged from the trees and into a clearing, and all of a sudden Dean knew exactly where they were.

An ancient cemetery, with broken tombstones and forgotten age sat before them beneath the moons glow. In the background, rising tall and mighty above them stood the Devils Gates, but Dean looked at it in suspicion. The markings and symbols engraved across its surface were nothing like what he had remembered from his last visit.

An amplified voice, extraordinarily deep and booming echoed through the night around them, sending vibrations trickling through the grass underneath their feet. 'Cast aside your weapon.'

The voice had no physical source – well, not one Dean and Bela could see at any rate.

Dean heard, in his own mind, Sam's reaction. I've already put this gun to its purpose, so I don't need it anyway.

Dean wondered what this purpose was, and what Sam had meant by "if Dean wakes up," but became too immersed in the events to think any more about it.

Tossing the pistol onto the ground, Sam crouched down on one knee and bowed to the voice in a salute.

'At your service,' he swore, standing up once more.

A large shadow erupted from the ground suddenly, tall and menacing; it's black evil spreading across its path, darkening the land around them. The figure was utterly enormous, towering above them with flaming red eyes.

Lucifer.

The creature was an utter abomination, and its words magnified throughout the clearing phenomenally. 'My loyal servant,' it boomed, 'I have a new task for you.'

Dean couldn't believe his ears – or his mind, whatever – but just stared wide-eyed at the events before him.

Perhaps he will reward me for my faithfulness. Perhaps… and at last I will get somewhere in this world.

Dean knew something was up. The first thing that ran through his mind was possession. Mind-control, brainwashing… something, just not realism. Please, don't let it be real.

'Anything you wish,' Sam replied.

'Go to Colorado, to the town of Idaho Springs. There is a man, a mortal man whom I would like you to meet. His name is Mathew Walker. Bring him to me.'

Sam nodded, bowing to him again.

'And bring him to me alive.'

'As you wish, your lordship.'

Lucifer stared down at him. 'Azazel was not wrong. You are, indeed, worth something to our race, Sam Winchester.'

And with that, Sam turned and walked away, past Dean and into the wilderness once more, to complete whatever task it was that Lucifer had sent him on. The shadow evaporated again and Dean stood with his mouth agape, shaking his head, unable to believe what he just seen.

Sam… Working with Demons…?

Bela stood wordlessly in the background, watching Dean stare at the spot where Lucifer had evaporated from only moments before. He turned to her. 'Was that real?' he asked, 'Is that actually going to happen?'

She didn't sympathise with him. 'You were lucky, Dean.'

'Lucky? How do you see this as lucky?'

'It means that there is, at least, some hope for your brother. At the very least I was expecting a bloodbath – of mostly Sam's blood, mind you. You got off easy, this time.'

But to Dean it didn't feel like it. He dearly hoped that there was some way of saving the fate of Sam. There was still Bobby; perhaps he would find a way.

He'll be okay, Dean assured himself unconvincingly.

But how many innocent people will he kill before that day?

'So,' Dean croaked, mounds of questions piling up inside of him. 'That was Lucifer, huh?'

'Yes.'

Remembering the terrifying volume of his voice, Dean shuddered, thinking that he wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of that thing if he could help it.

A single question rose to the foreground of his mind, and Dean stared over at the Devils Gates, curious. 'Bela?' he asked, 'The Devils Gates are right next to us, but they can't lead into Hell as they do on the outside, because – obviously – we're already here. Where do these lead to?'

Knowing what he was asking, Bela bowed her head and sighed. 'Yes Dean,' she answered, 'We are standing on the opposite side of the Devils Gates. It is true; if you could somehow get through those gates you would emerge into the real world. But the gates cannot be opened from the inside, so don't even bother trying. Your father just happened to be in this area when Jake opened the gates last year. It is a desperate climb, a mighty struggle to cross the border between life and death, and it was a great achievement for a mortal man to exit the gates of Hell.

'At that time, your father was aware that he didn't own his soul, but he also knew that he probably wouldn't get another chance, and climbed out in the hope of seeing his two sons one final time.'

Dean gulped, wondering how much pain his father went through just to see them that day, when they had finally killed Azazel, the Demon they had hunted for so many years.

'And Mathew Walker? Ever heard of him?'

Bela shrugged, 'I don't know. The name sounds familiar, but I forget where I've heard it before.'

The wind howled through the leaves of the bushland, and the night suddenly became cold and chill. Moans and growls of nameless creatures and animals echoed through the night sky, and they became aware that they were no longer alone.

Dean's mind was still immersed in its memory, recounting everything that had just happened, when Bela tugged on his jacket and beckoned him forward.

'Come,' she said, 'It's not safe here.'

Sorry for the lengths!

After rewriting, all the chapters are going from around 3000 - 3500 to 5500 and 7000 =P

I'll post most after reviews - if the length bothers you, tell me! =D

Cheers