Have I recently thanked everyone for reading and reviewing? I know I probably seem like a cold person for not replying personally to every review, but I'm just busy, and there are so many. I also like making excuses for myself :) As usual, I appreciate all the love for the fic. We're nearing the end now, so expect some big stuff!

Chapter 11

The Tension Is Here

"This," Bela said, unrolling a fading map onto the large table that Sam, Dean, and Jo stood around, "is Cold Oak. As far as we know, it's the other side's most active settlement. This," she pointed toward a large square on the map, "is where they're housing whatever it is that they've developed to find our location. It's what we're going to blow up today."

Sam nodded, leaning over the table to see the map more clearly. Apparently, Bela had stayed up most of the night planning a way to take down whatever army he'd managed to amass in the missing eighteen years of his life, and now he was hearing it.

"Jo," she instructed, "take your group and head around from the west. Plant the explosives at the building as subtly as possible and then run."

"Wish Marc was here for this," Dean said, "he always loves the big bangs."

"Nobody's heard from Marc since about an hour after he left yesterday," Bela said, "but I'm sure he's fine. Probably just out of range."

"Thought our psychics could hit Cali from here."

"There must be something blocking him."

"Or someone," Jo offered, "more and more of our people have left and not come back."

"That doesn't mean anything," Dean argued. "For all we know, they're running off to become one with nature."

"Right, because people do that so often when all the plants are dead."

"Hey, rocks are nature."

Bela sighed, massaging her temples. "I swear," she muttered, "it's like working with children. If you two would care to join us as we plan what may very well be the beginning of an all-out war, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sorry," Dean said, turning back to the map that was laid out on the table. "So, Jo takes 'em east-"

"West."

"West, then. What about me?"

"You'll be heading here," she pointed toward another square on the simple map, "to the main compound. You'll be acting as our initial distraction. When Jo's team finishes, they'll join you."

"In the fight?" Jo asked.

"No. In knitting a nice little quilt for the demon army from Hell," Dean quipped, "I've already got the pattern picked out and everything."

The blonde ignored him. "How many people are we sending out?"

"Everyone," Bela answered, "we're already at a disadvantage. We're going to need everyone we've got for this one."

"But not Will."

"We can't very well leave him behind."

"Yes," she argued, "we can. He's too young-"

"We've got people nearly half his age fighting," Dean pointed out, "I mean, Hell, Ben started when he was just fifteen."

"But Ben is not your son."

Sam glanced at his brother, unnerved by the sudden silence in the room. The older man's face darkened, but his eyes stayed clear, just staring at the blonde, as if daring her to say more. "Guys?"

"Oh, wait," Jo said, her voice too cheery, manner too over-bright, "that's right. I forgot. There's a reason his mother was killed, wasn't there?" She turned sly eyes on Sam. "You found out, didn't you? I mean, maybe you haven't yet, but you will. And that nephew of yours will send you off the deep end."

Dean had moved before anyone even had time to register the fact. Jo was physically pinned against the wall, in almost the exact same spot she had been the day before. "You shut up about that," Dean whispered, his face mere centimeters from hers, "you don't say a word to him."

"Or what?" she asked, never losing that over-confident air that years of experience in the field had given her, "what are you gonna do, Dean?"

He smirked, and Sam's heart clenched in his chest. He knew it wasn't Dean's face, but it was still Dean, and he hated the malice behind an expression that had once been so comforting to him. "I'm gonna tell Will."

"You'll tell Will what?"

The demon leaned in even closer, until their lips were almost touching. His voice was low, seductive, and sent a shiver down the spine of every person close enough to hear it. "His daddy shot your mommy in the head."

The color drained from Jo's face, her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. Any semblance of confidence she'd had was gone, replaced by shock and fear. "You…?"

"I wasn't gonna say a word to him, but if you tell Ben about me, then so help me-"

Jo nodded, a fast and jerky movement, pressing her body farther into the wall, farther away from Dean. She was totally recognizable to Sam now, a scared little girl in way over her head but unable to stop the wheels from spinning. She was trapped, and she knew it.

"Will's coming with me," Dean said, backing away, his voice back to its usual pitch, "and I'm gonna make sure nothing bad happens to him, ok? You've gotta trust me."

There was no retort, no 'why should I?,' just another meek nod of her head. Dean backed away, walking around the side of the table to regain his earlier spot by the map. "So, how big a distraction do we need?"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Surprisingly, Cold Oak hadn't changed. It was still pretty much a muddy pit of despair. Only now, instead of a bunch of psychic kids getting pitted against each other, it housed an army of demons.

"You recognize that building?" Dean asked, nodding toward an old house near the center of the town.

Sam peeked out from behind the bushes they'd hidden themselves in. "Isn't that where we stayed after I…?"

"Yeah. That's the main base. The center hub." He turned, looking through some heavy brush, and pointed to another building. "See that one? That's the warehouse where they're keeping this great invention of theirs."

Sam just nodded. Dean had barely spoken since his outburst back in Bela's office, and the younger man hadn't pushed him. Jo had been freakishly quiet, too, up until they'd stepped out of the office and assembled the troops.

The hunter turned slightly to look over his shoulder at the small group of people rallied behind him. Somehow Will had managed to make it to the forefront of the gathering, his eyes shining with an excitement that he could only have gotten from his mother, his face set with a determination that Sam recognized as his own.

He couldn't help but shudder, at the memories of what he'd been forced to do, and what it meant about his own future. He wished that things weren't moving so fast, that he could have time to think like he always had before, ever since Dean's death. Without the pull of a hunt, or all-out war, he could have wrapped his mind around things, could have figured out how everything had gone to Hell in a heartbeat.

Beside him, something rustled through the dried-out leaves of their pitiful shelter from the enemy's line of sight. He spun to see Bela crawling army-crawling toward him.

Dean turned at about the same time he did, only without any shock visible on his features. "Justine. Hey. I'm guessing Maggie said no, then?"

Bela- or Justine- nodded. "Yeah. These stupid humans want to die free if they have to die at all."

"Looks like you got a host, though."

She smiled. "Well, when Bela said that everyone was going into battle today, she meant everyone. Spinal injuries or no." The demon glanced at Sam. "Hey. Good luck today."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of more rustling as Jo and her troops moved forward, explosives loaded into backpacks and ready for detonation as soon as they were placed. She glanced back once at her son, at the brothers, at the people that she might never be able to see again, and headed off to do her job.

"She really hates us, doesn't she?" Sam whispered.

"She hates our whole family," Dean responded, keeping his eyes trained on the old ghost town that lay beyond their shelter. "But she doesn't have to. You could change that. I've probably screwed things up beyond repair, and dad wouldn't have a ghost of a chance with her, but you could still fix things."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I know what you're trying to say, Dean, and it's not gonna fly. I'm not leaving you to rot."

"Survey says," Dean muttered, his eyes flickering toward the old house that he had holed up in with a corpse on the night that had changed both their lives forever, "there's a difference between your now and mine, Geekboy. You just haven't lost yourself yet."

"And I won't," Sam argued, "I can still save you."

"You can try. But you're never gonna make it."

"Says who?"

"Says you," the older man said, nodding through the sparse branches toward the house, where a tall figure clad in a long, dark jacket had just opened the door without touching it. Sam was on his feet and running within seconds.