I've already started on the next chapter, but my wifi was out for a couple of days so I wasn't able to post this. Oh well. Enjoy!

The information that Bobby had received – the information that had gotten Ash killed – was cryptic. Bobby had no idea what it meant, and Clint didn't know much more than anyone else in the room. Apparently, it was all demonic omens that were spread out all over the country, except for one particular spot in Southern Wyoming. That area was completely clean, almost like…

"The demons are surrounding it," Clint realized, and the older Hunter nodded in agreement.

Dean frowned at the map spread out on a table before the four Hunters. He looked to Bobby.

"But you don't know why?" he asked him.

"No," he replied, frustrated. "And by this point my eyes are swimming." He shot a furtive look at the youngest man in the room. "Sam, would you mind taking a look at it? Maybe you could catch something I couldn't."

Sam didn't look up.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed.

Bobby glanced at Clint, jerking his head to Sam, as if to say, 'you keep an eye on that boy.' Clint nodded to him.

"Come on, Dean." The gruff older man said as he weaved his way around tall stacks of books and other things piled up in the room. "I got some more books in the truck. Help me lug 'em in."

"Yeah," Dean said, and followed after him.

Not too long afterwards, Dean and Bobby reentered the house, this time followed by a familiar person. Brown curls streaked with gray, and a worn face. Her bar – and everyone in it – had gone up in flames, so how was she alive?

"Ellen?" Clint said in confusion and shock, and Sam's head shot up. "I – we thought you were dead!"

Ellen Harvelle – former owner of the Roadhouse – shot him a half-hearted smile.

"Hey, sweetie." Her voice was hoarse.

Bobby led the woman to the kitchen table where they both took a seat as he busied himself by pouring a shot of Holy Water into a small shot glass. He pushed it towards her and she frowned.

"Booby, is this really necessary?" she asked the man, but his face remained impassive.

"Just a belt of Holy Water," he told her. "Shouldn't hurt."

Ellen lifted the shot glass to her mouth and swallowed the blessed water, keeping her eyes on the Hunter sitting across from her.

"Whiskey, now, if you don't mind." She said blandly. Bobby almost cracked a smile.

Dean looked at the woman curiously.

"Ellen, what happened?" the younger man asked her, leaning in closer. "How'd you get out?"

Ellen watched as Bobby poured amber liquid into a glass for her.

"I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else." She scoffed. "But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." She accepted the drink Bobby offered her, taking a large gulp before exhaling sharply. "Anyway, that's when Ash called, panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky-high and everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes." She closed her eyes briefly.

Sam looked downwards.

"Sorry, Ellen." He said softly.

Clint watched as Ellen's eyes filled with tears.

"A lot of good people died in there, and I got to live," she snorted. "Lucky me."

"Ellen," the archer began. "You mentioned a safe."

She nodded.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement," she confirmed.

"Demons get what was in it?" Bobby asked her, and her eyes hardened as she gave a slight smirk.

"No," she said, and pulled a folded map from her pocket. She spread it out across the table, and the others could clearly see the black lines and X's marking it.

"Wyoming," Dean said, and pointed at the lines. "What does that mean?"

They had returned to Bobby's study to see if they could find something in his massive compilation of books that might shed some light on the mysterious map. So far, they were unsuccessful. Clint couldn't take his eyes off of his younger brother, as if Death might come to claim him at any given moment. Although he was relieved that Sam was alive, it was incredibly stupid of Dean to do what he had done.

"I don't believe it," Bobby said suddenly, setting the book he'd been looking through on a side table. Clint glanced over at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You got something?" Sam added.

Bobby snorted.

"A lot more than that. Each of these X's," he pointed to the marks on the map, "is an abandoned frontier church, all mid-19th century. And all of them built by Samuel Colt."

The name sounded familiar to Clint, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he might have heard it. Hadn't he been a famous Hunter or such? Wait! He had built a gun that could kill anything in the world, including demons. He cracked a small smile. If Colt had a hand in this, it might just be good news.

"Samuel Colt?" Dean questioned Bobby. "The demon-killing, gun-making Samuel Colt?"

Bobby gave a short nod.

"Yep. And there's more. He built private railway lines," here he motioned to the black lines on the map, "connecting church to church. It just happens to lay out like this."

He took a pen and connected the points on the map until the shape of a star had been made. A grin slowly made it's way on to Dean's face.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," he said, and Sam quirked a smile as well.

"It's a Devil's Trap," Clint grinned. "A big-ass Devil's Trap."

"One hundred square miles," Sam said in wonder.

Dean almost laughed.

"That's brilliant. Iron lines that demon's can't cross."

Ellen stared at the map.

"I've never heard of anything that massive," she said.

"No one has," Bobby informed her.

Dean frowned slightly.

"And after all these years, none of the lines are broken?" he questioned. "I mean, it still works?"

"Definitely," Sam said with a nod.

Clint looked at his younger brother.

"How do you know that?" he asked him.

Sam tapped the research that they'd originally come to Bobby's for.

"All those omens Bobby found." He replied. "I mean, the demons, they must be circling it and they can't get in."

"But they're trying," Clint murmured, tracing the star shape on the map.

"Why?" Ellen asked the question that they were all thinking. "What's inside?"

Dean explained that nothing was inside the Trap, save for an old cowboy cemetery in the middle. Sam suggested that there was something in the cemetery that Colt was trying to protect.

The Devil's Trap, for some reason, reminded Clint of a S.H.I.E.L.D. location known only as the Sandbox. It was where they kept the most dangerous things that Agent's had come across, including artifacts and people. The Sandbox was meant to keep people on the outside, and to keep things from getting out. He was suddenly struck with an idea.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out?" Clint finally said, looking up. "What if he was trying to keep something in?"

Ellen frowned.

"Now that's a comforting thought," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah," Dean replied, "You think?"

Sam glanced towards the older Hunter.

"Could they do it, Bobby?" he asked him with a frown. "Could they get inside?"

Bobby shook his head.

"This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it." He answered. "No way a full-blood demon gets across."

Sam furrowed his brow thoughtfully.

"No," he agreed. After a pause, he added, "But I know who could."

Word Count: 1,332