Newport – Rhode Island – 3:24pm

Dean headed down the stairs towards Hannah's study with Sam at his heels. He had to confess that he felt better for having eaten, and despite his earlier objections, he felt better to have Adam there.

Dean walked through the large living area and headed through the door to Hannah's office, but when he spotted her asleep on one of the leather sofa's he stopped short, with Sam nearly running into his back.

Dean had assumed that when she had left them, that she had gone upstairs into her bedroom, but instead she had come back down to the study. A large leather bound book sat in her lap and her head was resting against the back of the sofa, with the compress balancing over her eye. Her deep breaths told him that she truly was asleep.

Pushing Sam backwards out the door, Dean held up his hand to silence his brother's objections.

"The Doc's asleep in there, we're going to have to go somewhere else." he said in a harsh whisper.

"Dean" said Sam incredulously "All of the research stuff is in there, we can't go somewhere else!"

Dean gave Sam and irritated glare before he relented.

"Fine" he muttered in his harsh whisper "Just be quiet."

The two Winchester's walked back into the study, and Sam crinkled his nose as something that smelled oddly reminiscent of week old gym socks assailed him. Tapping Dean on the shoulder he scrunched his face up in distaste.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly and walked over to where Hannah had fallen asleep. With the greatest of care he peeled the compress off her eye, and without even looking at his brother he passed it back to where Sam was standing.

"Great!" whispered Sam holding the stinking wad of fabric like is was a soiled diaper "What, am I supposed to do with this?"

Dean looked at him harshly, holding his finger to his lips in a gesture for silence.

Sam raised his eyebrow in question, the annoyance starting show on his face.

For the second time in as many minutes, Dean rolled his eyes skyward as if imploring for divine assistance.

"Chuck it out." he whispered his volume getting louder in his irritation.

Sam shrugged and went to drop it in the waist paper basket next to the desk.

Dean hissed air between his teeth to attract Sam's attention and divert him from his current course of action.

"Not there genius" he said "Take it out to the trash or it will stick up the whole place."

Sam huffed indignantly and turned on his heel with the stinking package held out at arms length. Dean could hear him mutter as he walked out of the room and he turned quickly to make sure that Sam hadn't woken up the Doc.

"And he's supposed to be the one with brains." muttered Dean as he was certain that the Doc was undisturbed.

Dean took the opportunity to look at the injury to the Doc's left eye. True to his word, Adam's foul smelling concoction had bought a lot of the swelling down and the bruise was turning from a deep red to a purplish black. Dean studied the Doc's face as she slept completely unaware of his presence.

Apart from her black eye, she seemed perfectly serene. Her eyes were closed and her long eyelashes made dark crescents where they rested against her cheeks. The Doc's hair was a deep auburn, as where her eyebrows and lashes, in stark contrast to her creamy white skin.

Giving in to a temptation to see what that skin would feel like, Dean allowed the back of his fingers to brush the silk of her cheek. It was warm and softer than he had imagined and he almost snatched his hand back, feeling them too coarse for such delicate skin, but he didn't. He let them linger against the side of her face and watched as unconsciously the Doc turned towards Dean's gentle caress while she slept.

Dean found himself smiling at that. The Doc was truly a beautiful woman in a way he had never found attractive before. Her designer clothes and tailored look had never appealed to him. He had always found people who looked like the Doc to be stuffy arrogant prats, who spent more time investing in their snobbery that they did in giving anyone around them a chance.

The Doc could sometimes be aloof, but she was never judgemental or cruel. In fact she was the opposite, helping complete strangers for the mere fact that they needed it. Dean thought on what Adam had told him, pulling an image of the Doc in his minds eye, wrestling the larger marine into her car and racing him to the hospital. Then his memory switched to the night where she, with an arm around either brother had help drag them from the woods after they had just had the crap beaten out of them.

Careful not to disturb her, Dean lifted the book that was balance on her lap and he sat done on the sofa next to her, inhaling deeply to catch the meekest hint of her perfume. With all of the spare seats in the room, Dean really wasn't sure why he took the one next to her, but something about her proximity was soothing. As he sat in the seat he let his thigh rest against hers, revelling in the warmth that was emanating from her. He turned the book around and had a look at what she had been researching.

Dean studied the pages, the book was in a language he didn't recognise, so he sighed slightly, and pulled one of the notes that she was using as place holders and slipped it between the pages before closing it and laying it gently on the coffee table.

He picked up the legal pad and looked over the notes, but instead of seeing words he saw funny little squiggles with dashed lines and strange curling characters. Sam came back in the room looking sourly at Dean as he went to sit in front of his computer.

"I tried that earlier." Sam whispered, looking pointedly at the legal pad "She writes in short hand or something."

Dean flicked back a couple of pages and sure enough every page was filled with the same strange script, but much like her handwriting the script was neat and curled with each character having it's own space on the page. Dean couldn't help smiling as he remembered the note she had written in his journal.

Dean laid the pad back on the coffee table and picked up another book hoping to hell that this one would at least be in English. He picked it up turning to the page where the Doc had left small squares of coloured note paper and began reading. He found the language difficult, but her persevered re-reading passages over and over until he was confident that he understood what they were discussing.

Sam tapped away at the keyboard of his laptop, occasionally scribbling a note or two on a legal pad that he kept next to the computer. Every now and then, he would close his eyes and reach out with his mind and see what he could feel within the house. He felt the subtle crackle of the ward at the front of the house and the more aggressive energy of the vault down in the basement. He could feel Adam's energy move around the house above them and then of course there was Hannah's and Dean's energy right next to him.

It was their energy that made him pause for a moment. When they were sitting this close together, Sam was having trouble distinguishing the nuances or their individual energies, they kind of melded together in his mind, and it was only for the sheer fact that he was aware of their physical presence sitting side by side, that Sam was even aware that there were two different energies.

Sam sighed inwardly. If people could be masked by others, that was a real Achilles heel for him. He would never truly be able to trust the impressions that he got. He wondered if he kept practising whether or not that would improve. He returned his thoughts back to the article in front of him and forced himself to concentrate.

Time slipped by and the room darkened as the sun dropped in the sky. Sam sat back in his chair scrubbing his face roughly, trying to diminish the ache behind his eyes. They had been going at this now for a couple of hours, and whoever Asbeel was, he was obviously a master of misinformation.

His origin was sketchy, his exploits convoluted and often contradictory and his powers unclear, but what frightened Sam the most was the lack of clear motivations. He had never been clear on the yellow eyed demons intentions with this plane of existence, but sheer avarice could have explain his actions. Asbeel seemed to be a completely different kettle of fish.

"No luck?" said Dean quietly.

"It's like the proverbial needle in a haystack and the problem is I'm not sure if the needle is even here."

"Don't sweat it Sam" said Dean with a subtle smile "We'll just do what we always do."

"What? You mean die!" hissed Sam moodily

"Well I was going to say 'wing it' but whatever." said Dean returning his attention to the book in his lap. He was determined that he wasn't going to let, Sam's dour mood affect him. While they still had breath in their lungs, they had a fighting chance.

Sam looked over to his brother apologetically; he had been in such emotional turmoil recently and the last thing that he wanted to do was to take it out on Dean. But Dean didn't seem too perturbed by it, he just settled back in his seat, looking briefly at the Doc to make sure he hadn't disturbed her and went back to flicking through his book.

On a whim, Sam punched in the website for the cinemas that had been just down the block from the apartment that he shared with Jess. He just wanted to imagine for a moment that he was just like everyone else and the biggest hassle facing him was what movie he should go and see, he flicked through the reviews of the latest releases and scanned the movie posters that were trying to entice audiences in.

As he scrolled down the screen he saw the ad for the Sunday morning showing of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. It was something of a tradition at that theatre and Jessica had loved going out for breakfast on Sunday morning and catching the early show. It had been one of her favourite movies of all time, and while Sam had enjoyed it, he had not known it off by heart like Jess. She was able to recite the lines almost word for word. At the time it had annoyed him, but now he cherished the memory.

Sam had been with other girls, while they had been on the road, but no one had come close to Jess in his heart. The injustice of her death made Sam's blood burn in his veins. He ground his teeth as he felt the well spring of emotion open up. His chest actually physically hurt as he battled to control his rising anger, but it was growing increasingly difficult, because not only could he feel his anger, but he could feel a raw power, untapped and waiting to be unleashed thinly veiled by his emotions.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, to try and push down the growing need to just let go of his control and let the entire venomous energy gush out of him. The swelling of power, pulled Hannah from her sleep, she sat bolt upright, looked around groggily expecting an attack at any moment. The energy was strong, hostile and very close. Dean looked at her in question, but she didn't respond to him she just looked at Sam.

He sat in the chair, his jaw and eyes clenched tight as her fought to contain himself. She could see that every muscle in his body was tensed, yet he sat perfectly still.

"What…" started Dean looking between Hannah and Sam, but he fell silent at Hannah's adamant gesture.

"Sam" Hannah said quietly, her voice slightly croaking from having just woken up. "Control it Sam, take a deep breath and try and get a hold of it."

Sam's eyes flicked open and they burned eerie amber. His look held so much ragged hostility in it that Hannah unconsciously backed away from him.

"Dean." she said the urgency in her voice motivating him quickly into action "Talk to him, if he lets go of his control we could be in a lot of trouble."

Dean knew that Hannah wasn't lying, he could already feel the hair on the back of his arms and neck rising.

"Sam" said Dean forcefully taking his brother's face in his hands and forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Listen to me Sammy." he said making his tone even yet forceful "Focus. Don't let it get a hold of you, ok."

Sam's eyes started to roll back in his head as if Dean's words actually caused him pain, but then he shut them tight and when he opened them, they had returned to their warm brown colour.

Hannah saw the tension drain from Sam's body, and breathed a sigh of relief sitting back down on the sofa and taking a few fortifying breathes herself.

Dean didn't let go of Sam's face, even though he felt the air around him settle. He kept a firm hold on his brother not only with his hands but with his eyes. He searched his brother's face looking for something he could not even define, perhaps a glimmer of the boy he had grown up with.

Sam's eyes welled up with tears, as he looked at his brother and he felt a deep shame, crawling up the back of his throat. Dean let go of his brother's face and pulled him into a tight embrace. Sam clutched at him, feeling the only anchor that he had in his life since they had lost their father. Whatever was he going to do if anything happened to Dean?

Sniffing harshly, Sam pulled himself upright, finding some composure and patting Dean affectionately on the shoulder. A silent communication of gratitude passed between the two brothers and at its conclusion, Dean gifted his brother with a roughish grin. Maybe this wasn't the same Sam who had been killed in a ghost town in South Dakota, but to Dean it didn't matter…this was still his brother.

Hannah felt a swell of energy by the ward and her eyes looked up towards the stairs instinctively. A heartbeat later, Sam felt it too, the tension returning to his body.

"There here." he whispered harshly and the smile slid from Dean's face.

"How many?" said Dean following their eyes, but of course seeing nothing.

"I'm not sure" said Hannah cocking her head in a gesture reminiscent of an inquisitive dog.

"There are five of them" Sam said with authority "No, wait, six of them. Five with very similar energy and one that is very distinctive. And there is something else. It's strange like clumps of statics."

"Does it feel like lots of swarms of bees?" said Hannah, pushing outwards with her own senses to try and get a read on what Sam could feel.

"Yeah" said Sam his voice sounding cold, almost foreboding "What is that?"

"Something without corporeal form probably." replied Hannah irritated that she was unable to feel the energy herself.

"How many of those?" asked Dean sternly.

"I'm not sure." replied Sam, whose face was a picture of concentration. "They are really hard to count."

"Hannah!" they heard Adam call from upstairs, his voice punctuated by the sound of a rifle being cocked "We got company."

Dean looked at both Hannah and Sam, his eyes hard and his lips set in a grim line.

"Let's do this." he said in a voice of determination and led them out up the stairs to where Adam was waiting for them.

"There just hanging back there on the driveway in the shadows. Four of them" he said to Dean as the younger man joined him by the front door.

"They won't try and come past the ward." said Hannah; she looked around herself as if trying to see all sides of the house "They'll be others, trying to find a way in."

"Well we know it can be done." said Dean putting a hand gun in his jeans and picking up the shotgun that rested by the door "Mike made it up to the porch."

"The others won't try." said Sam his voice sounding strangely hollow and far away "They know they can't come close, but they'll want to distract us so that the chosen can get in. We have to find the chosen and take them out."

"And how will we know which one is the chosen?" asked Adam, his eyes shifting restlessly at the growing darkness that was surrounding the house.

"Sam or the Doc will have to identify them." said Dean heading for the door.

Hannah raced forward catching Dean before he opened the door. "Dean, I'm not sure that I can. My senses don't seem to be as finely tuned into this as Sam's. I can't tell the difference like he can."

"Why don't we just take them all out?" said Adam "Avoid the need to have to identify this 'chosen'."

"There are innocent people hosting those demons, we take them all out, we take them out too." said Dean, thinking back on Mike "No! Sam will spot them, won't you?"

Sam nodded, his eyes intense, but his focus off into the distance. Hannah shot a nervous glance at Sam; minutes ago he had nearly been consumed by the well of energy inside him, now they were pinning everything on his ability to control those same powers.

"Sarg" said Dean, his voice deepening and turning forceful "You and the Doc take the house. Don't let anything that isn't Sam or I anywhere near it."

"Yes sir." said Adam automatically, taking up a defensive position on the porch.

"What will you do?" asked Hannah, trying to quell the growing sense of doom that was rising in her stomach.

"Sam and I are going to have ourselves a little chat with these bastards." Dean said, a smile curling his lips as he looked at Hannah. He could feel her growing concern, but she had pulled her mask of indifference over her pretty face and was hiding it well.

"Doc" said Dean pulling Hannah close so that only she could hear his words "If we fail, you need to destroy the house the vault everything like you did back in Iowa."

He looked at her meaningfully, waiting for some acknowledgement that she understood exactly was he was asking of her. She nodded almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Dean.

Dean indicated with his head towards the door and Sam fell in behind him. Hannah caught Sam's arm looking at him cautiously as if to judge how he might react to the gesture.

"Flare your senses out as wide as you can." she said her voice intense but unhurried "Visualise a spider's web with you at the centre, tune you senses so that you can feel everything that touches it and once you identify the chosen push the message to me, just focus on where I am on the web and send it down the line to me…then I can help you."

Sam held her gaze for a moment and then turned to follow Dean out of the house.

Twilight was falling and the funny half light was playing havoc with what they could see clearly. Shadows danced just at the edge of the light, making it unclear what was just a harmless trick of the light, and what was something more insidious.

As Hannah had instructed Sam to do, she took a moment to centre herself, flaring her senses out like a spider web. She touched the vault, and felt the pulsating of energy respond back at her. She sensed each of the rooms in the house and satisfied that they were all empty, she pushed her consciousness out sideways, so she could monitor the cliffs and the bush scrub on either side of the house.

When she opened her eyes, they swam with eerie silver light. She heard Adam's slight intake of air as he caught sight of her strange luminescent eyes, but he stood rigid and unfaltering, falling in by her shoulder to protect her or fight with her, whatever this evening called on him to do.

"You probably didn't need my help, that night back in Tulsa huh?" he whispered low into her ear.

In spite of the gravity of the situation she could resist smiling at him. "Probably not, but I need it now."

"Amen to that" said Adam, his coarse voice softening slightly on the benediction "Good thing the lord has a plan for us all then."

"Indeed" said Hannah, watching as the two Winchesters walked along the concrete driveway away from them.


Dean almost ambled up to the fence line, outwardly appearing casual, but his eyes were moving with lethal intensity. He walked up close to the perimeter of the ward and looked at the four who stood in the growing darkness on the other side. He felt Sam take up a position behind him, and took a moment to study the four in plain sight.

The man, who stood forward as almost the leader, looked like a business man, he wore suit pants and a tie, but his sleaves had been rolled up his arms. He had short neat dark hair and probably stood the same height as Dean.

The man that stood at his shoulder was a complete mountain of a man. He wasn't as tall as Sam, but he was solid, his flannel shirt stretched across meaty shoulders and arms. He looked like he would be more at home behind the wheel of a big rig than standing here in Newport.

On either side of the men, two women stood. One was young and had the look of a college student about her, he curling blonde hair pulled haphazardly into a pony tail, her jeans were faded and she wore an overlarge Harvard t-shirt. The other woman was older, probably middle aged and looked like she should be ferrying a dozen children to soccer practice.

Dean shifted the shot gun so that it balanced on his shoulder in plain view and he smiled charmingly at the four who stood stalwartly on the other side of the fence.

"How can I help you?" he said his words cordial where his tone was venomous.

"We have come for the grimoires." said the business man, his accent betraying his Boston heritage.

Dean's grin turned into a full blown smile. "I'll just rush inside and grab them for you, shall I?"

The man's face held shock for a moment until he registered the sarcasm in Dean's voice.

"Bring them to us now, or you will all die." said the man. The three standing with him seemed to leer as if the prospect of tearing them limb from limb was something highly exciting.

"Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt." As Dean spoke, he signalled discreetly behind his back to keep an eye out for the others. Sam had sensed that there were 6 of them including the chosen and it worried Dean that he had only spotted four.

Sam swung his head, checking his peripheral vision, trying to get a fix on the two others. He could feel them like he might feel an eyelash stuck in his eye, but he couldn't locate them. As Dean exchanged barbs with the four at the front, Sam did as Hannah had suggested. He closed his eyes and visualised a web with him at the very centre. The tendrils the flowed from him pulsed with energy and he felt them connect and bounce the energy back at him.

Sam kept that image firmly in his consciousness as he opened his eyes. He reached out with his senses, but the feedback coming back at him was like microphone feedback that wailed in his head. He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to swear, not wanting to show any signs of weakness in front of the four by the gate.

He could feel everything, spikes of energy all around him. It all came back at him, like a hundred voices all with something important to say. His temples throbbed as he tried to cope with the influx of information and he rubbed at them slightly, looking around to where Hannah stood on the front porch.

Hannah tensed a muscle in her jaw the only thing betraying her discomfort. Whether Sam realised it or not, he was screaming in her head at the top of his lungs. She couldn't really blame him, it had taken her months to come to terms with her extra sensory perception and even now it sometimes caused her grief. The one benefit that she could identify was that at least he had discovered how to send messages to her through the energy lines that he had drawn connecting them. Hannah took a deep breath and centred herself.

Sam looked around wildly. He could feel everything on all sides and it felt like it was all closing in on him. He had tried to drop the image of the web from his brain, but somehow he felt like once it was on, there was no off button. Panic started to unfurl in his stomach, until he was suddenly aware of a gentle feminine impression inside his mind.

Sam focused on it, like a lighthouse in a storm. 'Narrow your focus, look at each, assess and prioritise them like you would any adversary.' Sam's brows drew together in confusion, but then he felt the impression in his mind start with the four in front of him. He knew he wasn't doing it, but as Hannah touched each one through Sam, he saw how she developed the feeling for each individual presence.

'Some energy will be stronger than others, some will be more hostile, you need to assess which and then move on.' Taking his cue from what Hannah had done, Sam began to touch each individual energy signature, he could feel how strong they were, he could feel what their predominant emotion was and to his surprise he could kind of sense their motivation. With this information his brain moved, almost without conscious compulsion and prioritised each threat. He kept the most dangerous at the forefront of his consciousness and the rest buzzed behind that like ambient noise which he could still monitor or tune out at will.

As soon as he began doing that, his senses cleared. It was like someone blasting cold air on a foggy window, it cleared in patches until he could see everything. Sam couldn't prevent himself from smiling. He felt Dean, by his side, Adam and Hannah behind him and the four standing on the other side of the ward. The thing that concerned him the most was the swell of feeling that he got from the scrub on either side of the property. He leaned down and spoke so only Dean could hear.

"They're trying to keep our attention fixed out here." said Sam.

He saw Dean chance a glance to either side of the property. Although Dean didn't have quite Sam's perspective on the situation, he wasn't naive when it came to battle tactics. This was classic 'divide and concur' strategy in play, and looking meaningfully at Sam, he knew they had to get back to Hannah and Adam.

"You want the grimoires." said Dean without humour. "Why don't you come in and get them." With that he had pushed Sam towards the house and both broke into a run.

As soon as the business man saw that he no longer had Dean and Sam's attention, he cursed and from some unseen signal, the four demons split running to either side of the property.

Sam felt the swell of energy and knew that they would never make it back to Hannah and Adam in time. "The sides." he yelled praying that Hannah could feel it too.

Hannah felt the surging energies on both sides of her, her gaze shifting left to right to try and identify the source. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye to her right. Adam saw it too and drew and bead on it down the barrel of his gun. Hannah pushed the barrel up, before Adam could fire.

"Remember there are still innocent people in there." she said, but as the words left her mouth a demon manifested behind her in the shape of a little boy. It looked to defy gravity as it stood on the underside of the roof of the porch and it charged the older man with its features twisted in rage and its fingers edged with wicked talons.

The talons bit into the flesh on Adam's face and knocked him on his back. Hannah turned looking at the child, who if human, would have been no more than three of four years old, and it hissed at her. She narrowed in on the energy and with a well focus thought, the demon dissipated into oily black smoke.

A shot rang out next to Hannah's head and she turned to see a second demon who was trying to attack her from behind, disappear in a cloud of smoke. She looked down to where Adam had fallen at her feet, the wounds on his face oozed blood, but his eyes were keen and hard and the smoking rifle was pulled into the hollow of his shoulder.

"Iron rounds." he said as Hannah helped him to his feet. He quickly reversed her grip pulling her behind him and taking another shot at a demon that ran at them, along the underside of the roof. Hannah looked at him appreciatively and he smiled standing back to back with her as more demons manifested on the underside of the porch ceiling.

As Dean ran he saw Hannah and Adam engage with the demons that were moving in from the sides in dark wisps of inky smoke. 'Sneaky Bastards' he thought as they took advantage of the lack of devil's traps on the underside of the porch roof. He caught motion next to him, but before he realised what was going on, the trucker who had been standing out the front moved with preternatural speed to tackle him before he made it to the front of the house.

Dean went down hard, the air being forcibly expelled from his body. The shot gun he carried was pinned under his ribs, digging into him painfully. He managed to work one hand free and catch a meaty fist before it connected with his face, but for the most part he was pinned helpless under the mass of the meaty trucker.

Sam was aware of Dean going down behind him, his concentration momentarily diverted he turned to look. The web of his senses twanged in warning and he turned to see a man who he had never seen before running at him, howling like a banshee.

The man was too close to Sam to do anything, except take his momentum and roll with it. In a move uncharacteristically graceful for a man of his size, Sam managed to grab the lapels of the man's shirt and sticking his foot into the man's stomach, he rolled on his back, launching the man over his head.

Quickly, Sam found his feet and turned face to face with the Soccer mom who, spat obscenities at his while brandishing a garden ho she had found somewhere in the scrub. He dodged under the wildly swinging ho and looked for any opportunity to take the woman down.

Dean struggled restlessly under the weight of the massive truck driver. He had one hand that was protecting him from the trucker's meaty fist and the other was awkwardly trapped beneath them.

He kicked out wildly with his legs trying to shift the man mountain, but to no avail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam pull back one of his long legs and hit the man in the side with so much force, that the sound of cracking ribs punctuated his roll off of Dean.

Dean didn't even get a chance to thank his brother as he quickly found his feet. To his amazement, the trucker had also regained his feet and was circling Dean with evil intent. Absently, Dean noted that the business man stood apart from the melee and he had the briefest moment of wonder as to whether the man hosted Asbeel. Could the man be orchestrating this from his position or was he merely observing.

As Dean ducked under a rather clumsy swing from the trucker, he considered what they were going to do. He didn't want to hurt the man, after all it was hardly his fault that he had become the vessel for some prick of a demon, but as a sharp jab caught him in the stomach, Dean quickly changed his tune. The priority here was just trying to get these people out alive and hopefully not die in the process, after all, he only had 360 days to live and he wanted to ensure that he lived every last one of them.

He lashed out at the trucker, kicking the man sharply in the shins, as the man bent down to protect himself, Dean landed a heavy blow to the truckers jaw. A blow so hard it made the bones in Dean's hand ache. On any other human being that would have laid them out cold, but the tucker merely straightened, and looked at Dean with cold black eyes.

'Oh Shit!' thought Dean as he watched the trucker rush him, his meaty fists pawing at Dean with a renewed ferocity. He was vaguely aware of Sam holding his own against the two assailants who were attacking him, and somewhere just out of his vision he could sense the young college student waiting to find an opening to attack him. The problem was, that the demons were just not going down. They weren't bound by the natural laws of physical response, even in death the demon could animate the flesh and continue to use it.

Hannah and Adam stood back to back, unable to help Sam and Dean as they wrestled with the human hosts on the front lawn of the house. The problems that Hannah and Adam had were that their demons would attack and be repelled either by a psychic blast or one of Adam's iron bullets. It wouldn't destroy them, only scatter their energy briefly, before they manifested again out of range.

Hannah realised that this couldn't continue. She knew that Adam must be running out of bullets and she could feel her own energy wanning as they continued to fight. As soon as they were overwhelmed, they would be dead, and that realisation spurred her on to try something radical.

She flared her senses out momentarily, satisfying herself that no one had been able to get into the house. She realised that the 'chosen' had not yet materialised and she wanted to make sure that they hadn't already found some other way in. Then she narrowed her focus on the demon that was scuttling towards her across the roof, like some hideous parody of Spiderman.

Some of the non-corporeal demons materialised in a form approximating humanity, but this demon mad no such effort. It was a mass of writhing sinewy flesh, stretched tort over impossibly long limbs. Its eyes were hollow sockets and its mouth a gaping maw, hissing fetid breath in her direction. She looked at it, not only with her eyes, but with her consciousness and felt the elements of energy clinging together to give it form.

Even though she had never tried this before, she visualised a shiny film all around the energy of the demon, much like the pearlescent skin of a bubble. She imagined that the skin was impenetrable and could hold the form irrespective of the desire of the demon. The demon seemed to hesitate in its attack for a moment, sensing something different about itself, but then it followed its base instincts and sprung at Hannah.

Hannah caught the creature with her mind, holding it in mid air even as the beast struggled. Realising that it could not dissipate its energy, the demon looked between his captor and the ground, expecting at any moment to be dropped and trapped by one of the symbols painted on the underside of the floorboards. For a moment none of the non-corporeals advanced, watching in macabre fascination as the destiny of one of their brethren was played out.

In a low and steady voice, Hannah began reciting the Aramaic exorcism rite, it was not as long and involved as the Catholic or Sumerian rites, but on demons of a non-corporeal nature, she was certain it would work well. They had no human host to cling to as they were banished so the words of the dead language would cast them out of this realm of existence with great ease.

The captured demon began to mewl like a distressed cat, wailing and braying in a hideous high pitch that hurt Hannah's ears. But she gave it no respite, she continued, her voice rising in volume to combat the noise. Eventually, the demon began to disintegrate as if it had been burned to ash and the ash was now being discarded by a strong wind.

As Sam fought, there was a consciousness in him that remained calm like the eye of a storm. He had felt what Hannah had done, and registered how she had achieved it. Mentally he filed that away in his knowledge bank and then he flared his consciousness out again, hoping to increase is knowledge and understand how to use the powers that he had been given.

As Sam directed his consciousness out he felt a presence flare at him, like an incessant blip on a radar screen. It was unlike the 5 other energy signatures that he could identify in the humans that were brawling with them on the front lawn. That meant only one thing…'the chosen'. Somewhere hidden in the shadows near the garage 'the chosen' had been waiting silently. After seeing what a threat Hannah was to its non-corporeal soldiers, 'the chosen' had directed all of the non-corporeals to attack her. There were three things about this that struck Sam.

Firstly, Sam now knew where 'the chosen' was. Secondly, Hannah was in immediate danger and finally, just in the same way that he had learnt from Hannah how to manipulate his senses and how to capture the non-corporeals in a physical form, Sam now knew how to issue commands to the non-corporeals. Sam made a split decision, deciding that the priority now was to alert Dean and the others to the presence of the second 'chosen'.

'The chosen is in the shadows, by the garage'

The thought formed in Sam's mind, but before he could say anything he caught a sickening blow to the stomach, making him drop to his knees.

Dean thought he heard Sam's voice, although given the intensity of fighting that was going on, he wasn't sure. More than hearing words, he had the impression that 'the chosen' was over near the garage.

"Sam, are you sure?" yelled Dean, tripping the college student who had just charged him with wild eye rage.

Sam seemed surprised to hear Dean ask. He had intended to let everyone know, but he hadn't actually got to articulate the words. It seemed now that was a moot point. "Yep!" cried Sam as he tossed his head backwards, connecting with the man who was trying to pin his arms by his sides. Briefly he felt a small surge of delight as his head butt was repaid with the sickening sound of a nose breaking.

Dean caught Adam's eye. The ex-marine also showed that he had gotten the message about 'the chosen' but he too was in no position to address the new player. He and Hannah fought frantically as a tidal wave of demonic force crashed over them.

Hannah heard the click that indicated Adam's rifle was now useless and drawing on all of her energy reserves she pushed him sharply away from the squall of demonic force. The demons attacked her from all sides, almost obscuring the sight of her in a layer of writhing oily smoke. She felt their talons biting into her, but every time she swung around, another disembodied arm would attack her unprotected back.

She stepped backwards trying to put some distance between her and her attackers, but the battle had turned her around a little and rather than finding solid floor boards under her feet, she found the uneven fall of the stairs. Hannah tumbled backwards down the stairs, the demons following her down like a swarm of angry hornets.

Adam looked on helplessly, unable to help Hannah as she fought the marauding demons. He looked up to where Sam and Dean still battled hand to hand on the front lawn and he made his decision. Putting one sure hand on the porch banister he hoisted his body over it, dropping down into the garden bed below. He ran quickly to intercept one of Dean's attackers, swiping out at the man's legs and taking him to the ground.

Given a brief reprieve, Dean looked to Hannah. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen her go down, but seeing as she writhed on the ground fending off her phantom attackers made him feel sick with fear. He hurried over to where Sam was engaged in his own battle and unceremoniously pulled the man off his brother, hurling him with such force into Sam's second attacker that the two demonic hosts went down in a tangle or arms and legs.

"Help her." cried Dean desperately, shoving Sam outside of the combat zone.

Sam looked around him, to make sure that Dean could manage all of the 'would be' attackers, then he looked to where the other 'chosen' stood, masked by shadows near the entrance to the Garage. Sam closed his eyes, Ava and Jay had been right about one thing, once you accepted certain things, the talents came to you just like flicking on a switch.

Sam felt the swarming buzz of the non-corporeals in his mind, and with one stern thought, he dismissed them. The shadow by the garage seemed to straighten in the darkness as if its curiosity had somehow been peaked. Sam could feel the confusion in the energy signature. It had assumed that Hannah had been a 'chosen one' but Sam's little command had now changed the game completely.

Sam felt the 'chosen' in the shadows countermand his orders to the non-corporeals, so Sam responded by re issuing the banishment, this time adding in a measure of energy, almost as if her were now yelling the command.

Dazedly, Hannah looked up to see the demonic energy seeming to hover indecisively over her head. At times it looked like it was about to mount the final charge, and then it would draw back. Hannah reached out with her senses and realised, that Sam was now engaged in a battle of will with the other 'chosen'. Her philosophy was that discretion was the better part of valour so she scooted out from under the tumultuous cloud, putting some distance between them.

Hannah followed the trail on energy and saw in the shadows the figure that had now been engaged in the battle. Hannah's senses told her that Sam was infinitely more powerful than the shadowy figure, but he lacked finesse, the understanding and familiarity of powers that made him truly affective when using them and if this battle continued, Hannah was not sure that Sam would be the victor.

She looked around herself seeing Dean fighting alongside Adam. They were outnumbered, but both men being experienced fighters and seemed to be managing the multiple adversaries well. Hannah moved towards Dean, she could see the trucker preparing to charge at him, but in her mind she saw the man mountain flying backwards like a rag doll, and obediently the trucker's body responded to Hannah's psychic command.

Dean turned, giving her a once over. She found the look of concern on his face heart warming, but they had bigger things to worry about at that point in time. She reached around him, almost suggestively and grabbed the hand gun that he almost always carried in the waistband of his jeans. He looked down, a brief moment of surprise coursing through him, then he realised what she had in mind and he nodded approvingly.

Hannah ran across the lawn kneeling in the flower bed beneath the porch. She raised the gun and at the last minute remembered to disengage the safety mechanism, then she fired three quick rounds.

Sam felt the moment of indecision within his adversary and then suddenly, there was no longer a battle going on between them, the other 'chosen' had elected to focus on stopping the bullets rather than fighting over the demons. Given free reign now, Sam ordered them to be gone and with something close to a sigh of relief, the demons disappeared into small clouds of smoke and then nothing.

As Hannah had seen the night before, the bullets from her gun hovered unmoving a mere foot from her gun. She looked at the bullets in bewilderment, the fact that she had seen this before diminished none of her wonderment about it. 'Keep firing' commanded Sam in her mind, and she was aware of him drawing his own gun from the waistband of his jeans.

She pulled the trigger, over and over, hearing the cry of her bullets leaving the gun and hearing the answer in the bullets that Sam fired. With its attention now divided the 'chosen' was unable to stop all of the bullets coming at it. Both Hannah and Sam picked up the incredible sense of regret and then the energy was gone, much like the snuffed out flame of a candle.

Sam didn't even check the body. His senses told him that the 'chosen' was dead and he was beginning to trust them. He turned to where Adam and Dean still fought on the lawn and closing his eyes again, he issued an order for the demons to leave the bodies of their hosts.

He felt the demons acknowledge him slightly, but then they ignored him, they way an adult would dismiss a whinging toddler. Sam issued the order again, this time adding an energetic push behind it, to let them know that he meant business. Again he felt the demonic energy give him a cursory inspection and then ignore him.

Sam's ire was beginning to rise. He had no problem with the non-corporeals, he wasn't sure why he was now having so much more problems with these demons. He issued the command a third time, this time tapping into the energy within him that burnt hot and red and churned like molten lava in his gut. He pushed at them and pushed until he was sure he had their attention.

Adam and Dean were surprised when all of the people they were fighting, stopped and stood stock still on the lawn. They looked between the human hosts and Sam, wondering what to expect next.

Sam was momentarily confused, without a doubt he had now engaged these demons, but he felt them resist his order and he couldn't fathom how they were doing it. Sam looked deep inside himself to that cavernous space that most of the time, was just empty and he found a reserve of power just waiting to be tapped. If these bastards were going to deny him, he would destroy them with everything within him. He embraced the energy letting it flow throughout him and then he directed it at the demons.

Hannah looked at Sam, concern etched on her face. She had felt the increasing spikes of energy coming from him and realised what he was trying to do. What Sam didn't seem to realise is that with all of his power, he could certainly tear these demons out of their human hosts, but the demons would fight him and most likely kill the host before they left it.

Brute strength was not what was needed here, a strategic attack was required, but she had already seen that Sam lacked the dexterity with his power to do this so she walked over to where he stood, took a deep calming breath and placed her hands on Sam's shoulders. The energy pouring through him, nearly made Hannah snatch back her hands, but she calmed herself, cutting away her emotional self and turning into a being of pour intellect.

Sam felt the foreign energy added to his own and he almost rejected it. It flowed with his, and yet it did not, somehow binding his energy in a way he did not like. Hannah wrestled with the power coming from Sam, he was using a huge amount and she was trying to corral it and push it to a certain focus but it was becoming like floodwaters breaking a river bank.

Steadily, Hannah's voice rose, the Latin words from the rites of exorcism forming in her mouth like a familiar litany, she tried channelling all of Sam's energy into those words, but is overflowed, fighting against the rigid ritual having one goal in mind and going after it.

Sam's anger began to grow, it felt like Hannah was trying to dampen the affect of his attack on those demons and that incensed him. He could defeat these bastards, hadn't he already proven that he could earlier tonight. He resented her help, resented they way that she tried to curb him. He would show her exactly what he could do.

Hannah's voice wavered slightly as she struggled to direct the overwhelming power that was surging through Sam. She could sense his intent, but if she just let him go, then all of the people standing ramrod straight on her lawn would be dead. Hannah raised her voice slightly letting the Latin words roll through her.

Adam watched on horrified as the five people all rooted to the spot on the front lawn, began to shake violently, their eyes rolling in the back of their head and their teeth gnashing viciously at the air. The soccer mom convulsed a couple of time, tremors raking her body violently and blasphemies so profane spilling from her mouth, that it mad Adam flinch. She made a strangled gurgling sound and then dropped unconscious to the lawn as the demon inside her released it's hold on the only thing that anchored it in this realm of existence.

Beside her, the young man, with the smashed nose soon followed. Then the young college student let out a blood curdling wail, all of her muscles tensed, twisting her petite body in a vulgar form and then she dropped like a marionette whose strings had just been cut, as her demonic puppeteer was compelled from her body.

The demon in the trucker, held on with tenacious resolve. It liked the power that this body gave it, the fear it had smelled when the big man had walked into a room. I liked the sensation of the meaty hands beating flesh and breaking bones and it was not going to give it up easily. The demon clung to the man's soul even as Hannah's words gave it a hundred tiny wounds. It clung like a desperate toddler to its mother, until Hannah's words and Sam's power finally pried it free. The trucker, whose eyes went from black to a pale blue, sunk to his knees on the lawn wheezing as if he had been choked.

Sam felt a surge of victory as he felt the energies of the demons disappear, but he could still feel the demon that clung inside the businessman. The energy of the demon seemed to almost taunt him, even as it fought desperately to remain in its host. This demon was strong willed and cunning and Sam had the sense that it had put its head down and braced itself for whatever Sam could throw at it.

Sam delved deeper within himself, sensing that there were greater reserves of power than he had ever imagined. His anger burned a rancid red, churning and boiling within him like acid. He thought on his father, on the sacrifices that Dean had made for him and lastly he thought of Jess. Of her senseless agonising death at the hands of a demon that saw her as nothing more than an obstacle and his anger turned from red, to a burning white rage.

Hannah had stopped speaking now unable to manage the energy within Sam and form the words at the same time. She had tried to remain a creature of pure intellect, but the rage and power within Sam frightened her. She was doing her best to prevent him from killing the business man, but she was loosing the fight and of greater concern, the darkness that dwelled within her, realised her attention was divided and it raised its head in interest.

Loosing control of Sam for a moment, Hannah had to address the darkness coming to the surface in her own mind. If she didn't she knew that it would unleash something more terrible than anything they had seen tonight. Satisfied that all her defences would hold, she tried to rein Sam back in, but like a horse that had picked up too much momentum, Sam bolted unrestrained.

Hannah felt Sam's energy swamp her, yet like someone who held onto a livewire she was unable to remove her hands and sever the physical link that connected them. She could feel Sam bludgeoning the demon away from the business man with single minded resolve and even as she felt the demon give ground a scream was building in her throat. This was no longer fear, this was terror.

Hannah heard the business man scream, it sounded like it came from a long distance away. She was also abstractly aware that she was screaming, but somehow her ears wouldn't even register the sound. Pain exploded in her mind as she felt the demon being reefed from the business man, but even with it gone, Sam didn't stop.

The volcano of energy had been tapped and Sam was giving it free rein as his mind was swamped with images of Jess that only served to feed his fury. Hannah felt her consciousness starting to be pulled away from her, towards the maelstrom of energy that was Sam. She felt the Darkness within her crouch as if ready to pounce the moment she was unable to contain it.

Blood ran steadily from her nose and eyes, but that was nothing to the piercing agony within her mind. She felt sure that Sam was going to strip her from herself as easily as he had done with the demon and she despaired in a way that she had never believed possible. Strangely she heard Dean's voice but couldn't make out his words.

All of a sudden, she felt the pull stop as if someone had closed the storm shutters against the hungry storm on the other side. Hannah fell to her knees, heaving mindlessly as she tried to stay conscious. With the darkness in her mind so close to the surface, she couldn't afford to loose consciousness although that was exactly what her ravaged body screamed at her to do.

Her stomach clenched and she heaved again. She was aware of someone holding back her hair as she vomited up bile and the small amount of food that had been in her stomach. She had assumed that it was Dean, but when she looked over her shoulder she was surprised to see Sam on his knees beside her, looking at her with both sorrow and confusion in his eye.

Instinct made her want to retreat from him and protect herself, but she could feel the remorse rolling off him and knew that even though he could have psychically lobotomised her destroying her forever, he hadn't. Something had stopped him and it was the same thing that fed his remorse now.

Hannah rocked back on her haunches, looking out over the lawn where Adam and Dean were checking over the people that were spread over the lawn. The trucker was the fist to find his feet and he walked around taking big wheezing breaths. The college student and the man with the broken nose where still unconscious, but the soccer mom was up and helping Adam and Dean with the business man, who was seizing on the ground.

Sam stood, helping Hannah to her feet, aware that as he took her hand, the flesh on her palm felt strange. He turned her hand over in his own to stare down at them and realised the palms and pads of her fingers were covered with blisters, like her hands had been exposed to radiation or something.

"The minds a funny thing." said Hannah, he voice hollow and croaky as she moved her fingers gingerly "My mind recognised the heat of your anger and my body responded in the only way it understands how."

Looking at the ravaged flesh, Sam wanted to apologise, but it seem like such a paltry gesture. Instead he just looked away, feeling shame overwhelm him. His eyes fell on the slumped figure by the garage and he quickly moved away from Hannah wanting to put some distance between them.


Two pairs of eyes followed Sam's movements as he went over to the body of the 'chosen'. In to darkness of the scrub at the side of the hose, the two stood, carefully shrouded by the shadows from the trees.

One was tiny, an elfin little thing no more than five or six. She had white blonde hair that had been cut into a neat bob and her skin was so fair that she almost looked ghostly. But her eyes were not that of a child. Her eyes were ancient eyes, eyes used to observing, eyes that smiled at the scene of destruction that had played out before them.

The other was taller but still quite young as humans measured it. When she knelt, she was the same height as the fair haired child, and she looked on with a kind of fascinated awe. She held herself with the awkwardness of one not quite a home in their own skin and yet there was an arrogance of youth about her that the fair haired child found strangely appealing.

"He is very strong." said the tiny creature as she absently swung a stiff jointed teddy bear by its leg.

"I'm stronger" whined the older girl, but her words sounded a lot less like a statement and more like a question.

"Probably" mused the little girl, irritating the older one with her non-committal tone.

"He learns quickly as well." she commented, swinging the bear a little more fervently to punctuate her excitement.

Her older comrade, made a clicking noise of dismissal and rolled her eyes skywards and then deciding that she was sick of hearing how great this 'chosen' was she decided to change the subject. "Can they sense us out here?"

The little girl looked at her companion, with her kneeling; it was one of the few occasions where they could look each other in the eye.

"No" she said almost precociously "I already told you, I shielded us. I just wanted to watch."

"Fine" said the older girl impatiently "We've watched. Can we go now?"

"In a minute" whispered the little girl, settling back onto the bed of leaves beneath her to watch the aftermath of one of the first battles in what promised to be a very long war.


Hannah had wanted to help the others get everyone inside, but while the mind was willing, the body was far too weak. She waited on the front porch, resting the weight of her body on her forearms and looking out into the darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that something out there was watching them. She had flared her perception out a couple of times to try and pick up on anything, but it seemed to be blank out there.

She wasn't even quite sure why she felt the way she did, but all she was aware of was the darkness inside of her. It had been so ready to pounce, but now it seemed to be cowering back as if it were afraid to draw attention to itself. For Hannah that was a frightening thought and absently she wondered what was so bad that even the devil feared it.