Shadows played across the ceiling, twisting and writhing like masses of black smoke, tortured souls being poked and prodded, ripped and shredded, cut and torn, maimed by skilled hands and watched by dark, fascinated eyes. Dean turned away, looking toward the other bed.

He was too cramped to sleep, shoved in under the covers of the queen bed next to his brother because Sam had to be a perfect gentleman and give Cas his own bed. He was too scared to close his eyes, fearing what Lucifer being on the earth's surface might bring to the forefront of his own mind. No, Dean was just fine staying awake for a while, until the urge to nod off became more than he could fight. Oddly enough, he'd been awake for nearly three hours and wasn't tired yet.

He stared at the other bed, at the angel's head poking out from under the covers. He was tempted to go sit beside him and just stare at him, wait and see how long it took him to wake up. Maybe freak him out a bit. Turn the tables. See how Cas liked it.

He was about to push the thin motel comforter off himself when the door to the room banged open suddenly, causing both Sam and Castiel to jump awake, wide-eyed and alert. Lucifer glared at them, a smile stretching across his face. "Rise and shine, boys. Daddy's home."

All three men immediately jumped up, fumbling to free themselves from the sheets that twisted and tangled around their legs. Cas dove for the duffle bag sitting on a chair by the wall, reaching in and pulling out Ruby's knife before brandishing it at the Devil.

"Come on, kiddo," the demon said, shaking his head. "You really think something like that will work on something like me?"

"You might be surprised," Castiel said, moving himself between Lucifer and the brothers.

With a wave of his hand, the Devil sent the knife flying out of Castiel's hand and across the room, past his own head to lodge up to the hilt in the wall behind him. "Oops."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Have it your way." There was a rustle of feathers, and he was standing behind the demon, his body beside the knife in the wall. One hand reached out and grabbed onto the hilt, wrapping long fingers around it.

The Devil spun and grabbed the front of the angel's shirt, twisting his fingers in the fabric. He steadied himself and tossed Cas back in the brother's direction, smiling as his fingers slipped from the knife, which only partially dislodged itself from the wood.

"You're weak, boy," Lucifer sneered as Castiel crashed into Sam, nearly bowling him over. "Lost your touch. Shouldn't give up what you might not get back whole." He stepped forward. "Of course, I'll be getting the whole shebang."

He continued walking toward Sam and Cas, who stumbled back until they were pressed against the wall, apparently ignoring Dean, who was bent low and sneaking around the demon toward the door and the knife stuck in the wall near it.

Lucifer stopped, hands clasped behind his back. "Naturally," he said, "I'll need more than just you." He cocked his head back and to the side, sending Dean sailing through the broken door and out into the parking lot. He turned back to Sam and Cas. "Now, where were we?"

"You can't win," Sam snarled.

"So cute," the demon grinned, "how my protégé fights. Keep it up, sonny, and you might just join your brother and that little fallen angel on his shoulder down in the pit. And you will burn. I'll make sure of it."

Sam smirked. "Swear to God?"

The Devil laughed- actually laughed- and stepped closer, staring up at Sam with a malicious glint in his eyes. "That's cute. Using humor to mask your fear. You know who else does that? Dean. He joked all the time, back home. Quite the kidder. Made me laugh every day for nearly twenty years before he just gave up with the jokes and the sarcasm and finally let himself scream. After thirty years, he started to play with me, Sammy. Thirty-five, and he had me laughing again." He turned his gaze to Cas. "You'da given me a couple more years, and I could have had him smiling as he did it."

"Hey!"

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer turned. Dean was standing in the doorway to the room, his clothes scuffed, cheek scraped, but looking otherwise unscathed. A car drove by on the road behind him, headlights illuminating him from behind for a moment, and in that brief span of time the empty space beside the hunter seemed to darken, spreading out behind him like shadowy wings.

The car passed, taking its lights and the illusion of feathers with it. Dean reached out and grabbed the knife, wrenching it from the wall and twirling it to fit into a more comfortable position in his hand. "Now, what do you say we do this thing?"

The Devil grinned. "Perfect." He waved his hand, slamming Sam's body against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. "I do so love a good challenge." He clenched his fist, twisting his hand in the air, eyes glowing with malicious light as Sam began gasping for breath. "What do you say, Dean? Wanna play Let's Make a Deal?"

Sam sputtered, coughing, trying to drag his hands from the wall to his throat and finding it impossible. He had been immobilized by the same invisible fore that had pinned him, the same force that was choking him.

He forced himself to look down at his brother, who was wise enough not to take his eyes off the demon. His vision began to darken at the edges as the iron grip on his throat tightened, but he saw Dean nod and lower the knife to the ground. The older man straightened up and gave the weapon a light kick, sending it skittering over the carpet toward Lucifer.

The pressure on Sam decreased immediately and he slid down the wall, hands flying to his neck, gulping oxygen back into his body in deep, needy breaths.

Dean was at his side in and instant, blinking and swaying on his feet as the familiar sound of feathers rustling in the breeze he'd created died down. He knelt on the floor, hands on his brother's shoulders. "You all right?"

Sam managed a grin. "You flew."

The older man shrugged. "Didn't mean to." He helped Sam to his feet, the taller brother leaning heavily against him, still a bit woozy.

"The knife…" Both brothers turned in time to see Cas appear beside the discarded blade and stoop to pick it up. He looked up at them, his eyes meeting theirs for a brief moment in time and communicating everything that needed to be said to end the war.

Dean released his brother and Sam let himself hit the wall, sliding back onto the floor as Lucifer turned and glared at the angel. "Now, that's hardly fair," the Devil said. "Seems to me every time Dean makes a deal, you renege. That just makes you look bad."

The hunter used the moment of distraction to his advantage. He charged at the Devil, tackling the creature from behind and wrapping his arms around him, gripping him tightly in a Full-Nelson and tugging his sideways and backwards as he stumbled a bit. "Now!"

Castiel took his cue and lunged forward with the knife, burying it deep in Lucifer's chest. The Devil smiled at him, head cocking at a comic angle as nothing happened. The angel narrowed his eyes, his lips pulling back in a snarl, wings unfurling behind him as the knife began to glow in the demon's chest. Violet eyes went wide with shock.

Dean saw the light and peeked over the Devil's shoulder, his own eyes fixed on the blade and the hands holding it in place. His gaze traveled up to the angel's face, to the soft light now pouring off the creature. He could have sworn he heard something- a voice, soft and calming and powerful all at the same time, a voice that should have fried his brain and sent it leaking out his ears- whispering through his mind, telling him what to do, telling him how to end it.

That blood taint wouldn't hold up under all that Heavenly power, and Cas had gone straight for the heart.

From his place by the wall, Sam saw his brother close his eyes. The younger man pushed himself back to his feet, using the wall for support, and watched. He was still weak, his neck feeling bruised and swollen, his mouth dry and his breathing labored, knees shaking. His head ached and his lungs burned and he must have been hallucinating, because he could have sworn that Dean was glowing. That wasn't possible. For Castiel, maybe. He knew what the hell he was doing, but Dean? Dean was pulling illegal wrestling moves on the first fallen angel.

He shook his head as those shadowy wings again spread themselves out behind his brother, snapping out as if someone had cut the rubber band holding them invisible to the older man's body. Feathers spread to brush the walls, caressing peeling paper as the glow emanating from the man increased. Dean opened his eyes again and Sam gasped. Blue.

Something in the back of his mind- some piece of knowledge gained back when things had been easier and made sense- told him to shut his eyes, to block out that glow before it turned into a scalding light that would blind him, would purge the tainted blood from his veins, would incinerate him.

And then his brother's voice cut through his mind, clear and laced with sarcastic laughter. Be not afraid. So Sam watched. He stared wide-eyed at the two angels- that's what they had to be now, angels- in the middle of the room, at the demon- the demon- pinned between them, the knife that was now hissing an spitting and letting off the most spectacular light he'd ever seen.

Lucifer screamed, his voice rising in a wail that shook the earth and rattled the heavens as his pallid skin began to turn and bubble. Tiny tendrils swam under the flesh, skittering under his face as fire burnt in his eyes and smoke began to billow up around him.

The knife began to spark in his chest as the glow coming off the angels brightened even more, enough that Sam finally had to squint against it. Flames built around the hole in the demon's chest, spreading across his sternum and ribs. Smoke leaks from his mouth and nose, the corners of his eyes. He struggled, bucking against Dean's hands, trying to get away from the blade lodged in his chest, but Cas pushed it in farther, eliciting a grunt of pain.

Black smoke surrounded the beast, snaking in a long cylinder, sliding around his body as the fire in his chest spread out to consume him, swallowing his voice, his pleas, his shimmering eyes. With a final burst of light and flame, the Devil disappeared.

Sam watched as the glow faded from his brother and the being that had pulled the man from Hell, watched as their hands fell, as they took a moment to stare at each other, small smiles flitting across their faces before they both fell to the floor, their job done.