A/N: Bonjour, my dears! This chapter, for all intents and purposes, was an absolute pain in my proverbial butt. I wrote the entire thing in the time that it took me to watch Avatar on FX (which is an absolutely phenomenal movie, by the way!). I was sitting there staring at the page until Legion literally struck me with inspiration.

Legion: WE GET CHAPTER DONE. WE HELP MOMMY. *smiles toothily* MOMMY LOVES US.

We sure do, sweetheart! Anyways, I promised you all a long(-ish) chapter, & I -

Legion: *turns head to stare at me*

- *ahem* we are happy to deliver. Let it be said that The Violet Knight's Angel keeps her promises! Enjoy!

~ Angel

Sam subtly and swiftly eyed the new member of their little group with a quick flick of his eyes. The little blonde - and he was especially short compared to Sam's own figure - had seemed relatively reasonable through the whole conversation, but Sam knew. Though short, the man was compact. He had muscle, and he clearly knew how to handle his gun.

Speaking of which, Sam couldn't forget that the guy - John, apparently - had a gun trained on him, his brother, and Castiel, who was apparently content to just stand there. Sam guessed that he was waiting for something to happen that would cause him to step in.

The point of the matter was that John, though he may resemble a cuddly little hedgehog, definitely had his spines intact. Therefore, Sam didn't quite feel comfortable accepting the guy's terms, especially with the likely deadly demon standing before him. "Uh-huh," he said skeptically. "And if we don't?"

The tall brunette heard the little, towel-clad blonde sigh.

Sam didn't exactly expect what happened next.

Castiel frowned.

His unblinking, ethereal gaze took everything in.

Dean and Sam were clearly in a - what was the correct term? - 'stand-off' with the other two humans. The messy-haired angel recognized the tension in the situation, but he chose not to interfere unless his charge or his charge's brother were in true danger. Dean didn't always appreciate his angel 'treating him like he was helpless'. Until he was truly needed, Cas decided to merely observe.

Most of his attention was split between the two major threats to the Winchesters: the demon and John's loaded firearm. Something did not seem right, however. Castiel could sense the demonic presence clearly. It was suffused into the air of the room, obscuring the energy of any other possible demon nearby. The entity was powerful, very powerful, but something was 'off', as Dean would say.

The energy did not feel as strong as the young angel had thought that it would be. The demon was not acting in a threatening manner, as well. It did not 'add up' - Cas was almost proud of himself for picking up on such human phrases, though using them still seemed awkward at times.

Castiel heard Sam's question. The youngest Winchester apparently realized the danger that the blonde man, John, posed. The angel could see that the older brother did, as well.

John sighed, and then Cas saw him move.

Decidedly, John made his move.

With all of the precision and speed of his years in her Majesty's army, he shot the gun out of the man, Dean's, hand. As the look of surprise registered on the man's face, John had already shot forward with a swing of his fist at the taller blonde's temple. The other, however, recovered his wits quickly, blocking John's punch and throwing one of his own.

'Well,' John thought, blocking the incoming fist and kneeing the man in the stomach. 'This bloke is good.' Despite himself, the ex-army doctor was almost enjoying the hand-to-hand brawl. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins. 'Sherlock does often accuse me of having an adrenaline addiction,' the blogger thought absently, dodging Dean's elbow.

Speaking of Sherlock, John could catch glimpses of his curly-haired flat mate grappling with his own opponent, having caught the tall man unawares when the stranger - John thought he'd heard Dean call him Sam - had turned his attention to John's initial attack.

Suddenly, John saw his worst fear become a reality. The third man, Cas, the one with the messy, black hair, grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders, ripped him from the giant, Sam, and touched two fingers to his forehead.

When the doctor saw Sherlock fall instantly, both concern and rage filled him, and he saw red.

Throwing another punch at Dean and successfully striking him in the nose, John turned to rush to his friend's aid.

'Please be okay! Don't be dead. DON'T BE DEAD!'

So caught up in his worry and anger as he was, the blonde almost didn't notice the figure that appeared at his side. The last things that John felt before darkness overtook him were a fist striking the back of his head at the same moment that two fingers pressed against his forehead.

The last thing that he saw was a pair of unbelievably clear, blue eyes.

A/N: Well? What did you all think? You've all been absolutely lovely about reviewing, but Legion & I could especially use some feeback for this chapter. I purposefully made John's point of view a little distant & less personal because he was in battle-mode. However, I'm not sure if that's quite how it came across, & I'm a little worried about writing Castiel. He's a very complex character, you know?

Anyways, reviews are very much appreciated, dear readers! I'll take comments, criticisms, rambling remarks, whatever. They feed my sweet little Legion! However, he doesn't do too well with flames (they give him tummyaches), so unless you want a snarling little Legion ripping your comment with his claws, I would refrain from them.

Legion: WE LOVE REVIEWS. REVIEWS TASTE GOOD. *frowns* *ears droop* WE NO LIKE FLAMES. THEY MAKE OUR BELLY PAINFUL. DO NOT FEED US FLAMES.

See? I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, & I'll hopefully start on the next one soon. I have a few ideas swirling around my noggin' thanks to Legion, here, so the wait should hopefully not be too long this time. Probably. Maybe. Eh...We'll see! Haha

~ Angel