Things begin to heat up for this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

~o(Supernatural)o~

"Now to finish this."

Sam's legs no longer kicked. His lower half fell limp, but his top half continued to struggle. His mouth was open, fighting hard to breathe. Lucifer leaned further into the wall, squandering whatever air was left.

"Oh come now Sam. Enough already," the Devil proclaimed. "We're two halves of a whole, remember? Why—" he pressed in harder—"Keep. Fighting?"

Sam gurgled, his face darkening to a bright mauve. "D-dean."

The languid brother on the ground blinked. Caught in the throes of numbness, he fought to regain his equilibrium. Everything was out-of-sync, spinning; sound coming off as that of something underneath water. To be called disoriented would have put it mildly.

He looked up and caught a peek of the action above. His heart sank like a lead weight. Sam was dangling like a freshly killed critter, his struggling growing weaker by the second, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. The pervasive tingling from his thigh worsened and he knew his bottom half was completely paralyzed. His left side had already became listless, the poison or whatever it was spreading fast throughout his body.

But he had to think of something. For Sammy's sake, something had to come to mind. Unconsciously his other hand took out the golden talisman. He hadn't a clue if it would work, but still, there were no other options left.

Lucifer cocked his head, his lips widening into a catty grin. "You know, I grow tired of these games. I don't want to do this anymore, to fight you. I really don't. But I've had enough. I want out!"

Sam's eyes grew wide when his nemesis pulled back a fist, poising it to deliver a fatal blow.

But before the fist swung, Dean immediately began to recite the Enokian passage to open the portal to Hell. How he remembered the despicable phrase was beyond him, but the words rolled off his tongue with little effort.

Lucifer stopped and lowered his gaze to the man below. Sam lost consciousness and hung in his grip, not at all distracting him. He raised a thin eyebrow. "Hymph. I wonder if you're recent alcohol obsession killed off most of what little brain matter you had Dean. That invocation won't work here. Especially when you don't have the Horseman's Rings to open the gate. Why, I've never seen something so silly in all my thousands of years."

Dean grinned, finishing the rest of the incantation except for the last word. He could barely understand what the Fallen Angel was saying, but that wasn't the point. The whole point was to keep Lucifer's attention occupied while his hand—talisman wrapped around his wrist— surreptitiously latched onto Sam's suspended foot.

His smile widened. "Sike!" He exclaimed and then at the top of his lungs announced, "In nomen of Josafna. Solvo nos."

…and away they went, with Dean still grinning like a mad Buffoon at the Devil's indignant cries.

~o(Supernatural)o~

Crash!

"We're getting hammered here!"

Boom! Smash! Boom!

"I know. Give em' all you have!"

"No shit Sherlock…whoa!"

Psshhh…Boom! There was another explosion and the top right of the roof disappeared. The ceiling trembled greatly from the impact, showering everyone with bits of plaster.

"My house is not going to take much more of this. We got to go!" Bobby bellowed, aiming his shotgun through the cracked window and letting off a shot. "Why aren't the wards working?"

Cass stood before the smoking hole in the wall. He muttered an incantation and a quarter of the demon army stationed just outside the home all were expelled, great plumes of black smog floating in the air above their captive vessels.

He lowered his hands. "Because there aren't only angels and demons here. They brought others. Some of them are witches. That's what is counteracting against my shields. Others I can't make out," he answered.

Bobby was stunned. Witches? Others? This didn't make any sense. "Why now would they begin to work together? And why are the angels doing this? I thought it was over for them."

"Not all; only those who are devotedly loyal to their duty. Their sole mission is to destroy anything that threatens or can threaten Heaven or the Earthly plain," Cass glanced back at Bobby. "As for the others, Sam poses an even greater threat to them all. They believe that if he somehow had defeated the Devil, their leader, he may very well take them all out. I'm sure the demons are behind the reasoning for their allegiance. He—"

One of Bobby's rusty old trucks took flight towards the house, smashing into the invisible shield. Cass dodged to the side as flaming shrapnel jettisoned into the opening.

Cass took a deep breather. "I agree. We're outnumbered and we need to go somewhere where they can't follow."

"You have anything in mind?"

"I do."

"Well alright then, make like a tree and get on with it!"

At that moment, Dean gasped awake, his body arching up into a sitting position. He immediately became aware of the wading cesspool of a situation they were in when a piece of ceiling broke off and split over his head. Going cross-eyed, he grabbed his head and fell to the floor.

"Dean. You're back!" Bobby exclaimed racing over to him. "Come on boy, get up! We gotta go!"

The house shook violently and an angry roar sounded from the outside. Cass continued to chant some more. Light formed at his palms every few seconds, followed by harrowing screams.

Dean looked up with a weary eye, still clutching his head. "What the hell is going on Bobby?"

"Demon brigade son. They found us!" Bobby pulled him back up.

"Already! Well that's just great!" Dean then crawled over to his brother, whom was lying flat in between the wall and the bed. He was awake, his eyes swiveling frantically within their sockets as though he were a small child afraid. "Sammy, you okay?"

Another explosion occurred behind them forcing them all to duck. Dean leaned in closer to Sam. "Sammy, come on. We gotta go."

His brother appeared worried, which under the circumstances seemed reasonable, but it didn't quell the niggling feeling Dean acquired in his gut. "What is it?"

Sam didn't answer. Instead his breathing became labored and he moaned in pain, whereas his body suddenly began uncontrollable shakes.

"Sam?" Dean grabbed a hold of his quivering fist, feeling the heat pulse off of it, making it hard to grasp. He peered up at Bobby, praying the man would tell him what to do, at the very least say to him "it's the just the adrenaline wearing off. He'll be fine". But none of that was said as his mentor, himself, appeared concerned and at a loss of what to do.

In between the harsh pants, Sam croaked through clenched teeth, "De—…g-g-gooooo."

Another fireball hit the house, shattering all the windows inside the room forcing Bobby to head back to his post. Dean had to lean in closer. "What?"

"G-goooo!" Sam yelled, his face scrunched in pain.

Worry and overall fear knitted Dean's brow. "Sammy. I don't…what's—"

"Run," his brother gasped, drawing his knees to his chest. "He's…" he gritted his teeth again, emitting a pained wail, "break…out. Oh G-god! He's…he's c-coming. Run!"

Dean's legs turned to jelly and his eyes welled up. "I can't."

Sam gasped, his eyes widening. "No. No. Gah—RUNNNN!" His torso arched off the ground, his face turning a shade of crimson.

"What's happening?" Dean cried in a panic, grabbing at Sam who began to thrash. Several screams of horrendous torture tore through his throat, which Dean swore could've shredded his vocal cords.

Cass ceased his current death defining assault and glided over, staring in horror. "Dean, get away from him! It's Lucifer trying to free himself!"

"What?" Dean screeched, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"You didn't kill him?"

Sam let out another wail. Hardly able to stray from his sibling, Dean pulled him into his lap and held him tight. Sam's body continued to tremble, resembling much of an epileptic fit. He looked to Cass one more time. "Is there anything you can do?"

Cass was about to answer when Sam suddenly began to cough up blood. Large reddish gobs dribbled past his lips, splashing the front of his shirt. Then more red liquid began to ooze down his nose and out of his ears. Dean grabbed a cloth sitting on top of the nightstand and began to sponge it off. But to no avail, Sam continued to bleed. "Ah shit Sam. Hang on!"

"Hold him down. I might try something," Cass said kneeling by his side, flexing a hand over the heaving chest.

But to their deepest surprise, Sam emitted another heart-rending cry and his body suddenly launched toward the ceiling, smacking into it with enough force to loosen more of the plaster, and fell back with a great backbreaking thud. He did it a second time and his head split open, leaving behind a splatter of red. Back on the ground, Sam grabbed at the wooden flooring as whatever unseen force then dragged him away and threw him against the opposite wall.

"SAMMY!" Dean ran after him.

There was no time. Sam sailed again and Bobby ducked in time before his large frame careened into the drywall, afterward he landed onto his side. More blood poured from Sam's mouth as he slowly succumbed to more of the violent bursts from the Devil, his body bucking spasmodically.

Dean couldn't believe it. It was like watching his brother back in the panic room having a demonic seizure, the demon blood residing in his system bouncing him off the walls. Sam had dropped to the floor and both he and Bobby pounced on him. Dean wrapped his arms around his chest, whilst Bobby mainly lain upon his side, keeping him saddled to the floor.

"It's okay. It's okay," Dean said to him quickly. "We gotcha. We gotcha," he turned to Cass who had taken up his guardianship duty again, "Cass! Do something!"

The angel had taken his eyes off the battle for a brief second. The sound of flapping wings and a howling like that of thousands of blood-curdling screams reverberated through the room and suddenly Cass was pinned to the floor next to the bed. A massive black shoe shown on his chest and Cass peered up into the eyes of his enemy. The dark pits shown with triumphant delight, the smile of victory none too appealing on the dark face.

Dean felt the hollowness of his stomach fill with lead. It didn't take a genius to figure out who or what the black man standing on top of Cass was. They had only trapped him in a circle of holy fire approximately four years ago.

"Castiel," the Archangel called in his deep brutish tone. "Well I have to say this has been long overdue."

"Raphael," Cass spat, glowering with hatred. "Good to see you're still flapping around. Glad to see you picked a side."

"Indeed," Raphael answered, a light appearing in his eyes. "Not at all surprised if I might say so. You always were a traitor to the cause, always willing to give everything up for these pesky monkeys."

"Yeah, well…" Cass smirked, clutching the large foot. "At least I do so in style…Ass-butt!" He waved a hand and the Archangel shot through the roof, leaving a massive hole.

"Cass!" Dean called from the floor, still keeping his shaking sibling tight against his chest.

"Go! He'll be back," Cass leapt to his feet. "I'll hold em' off. Get to the basement. Go now!"

The sound of Raphael's thunderous war cry pierced through their ears. He dove in through the opening, grabbed a hold of Cass's head and hauled him through the wall into the next room.

"CASS!" Dean screamed.

"Go. Now!" he heard his friend yell back along with several thudding whacks.

Dean wasn't wasting any time. Along with Bobby's help, he pulled his faltering brother to his feet, looping a quivering arm around his shoulder. And together they began to escort Sam out of the room. Sam moaned and gasped with each staggering step, the blood profusely trickling down his face.

"Come on Sammy. You can do it," Dean reassured. "Let's move a little faster, huh?"

The three men hadn't even reached the door when loud raged-filled roars sounded. They turned to see large, moldy clothing laden, twisted snout Rawheads jump through the hole in the wall. And all three simultaneously let off earth-quaking roars, revealing their mustard-colored serrated canines.

Bobby released his grip from under Sam's arm and aimed at the middle of the three. The buckshot knocked it down just as the other two advanced. He put another round into the one of the left, closing the door when the third leapt like a cat. It barreled into the door and the large structure exploded outward knocking into the old man. He lost his footing and fell backward, bowling into the two Winchesters and they all tumbled down the stairwell.

White-hot pain exploded in Dean's back as they finally hit the bottom step and he rolled over suppressing a loud pain-filled scream. The pain began to subside after a moment, but it was enough to render him incapable of moving. He reached out and softly patted a head. Not knowing who's head it was, only that it was either Sam or Bobby, he continued to pat. "G-guys. Ow! Come on, get up!"

Someone groaned.

That had to be Bobby. Only he would have said "Holy Jumped Up Jesus Bald-headed Palomino, that hurt like a sum bitch!"

Dean struggled into a sitting position, opening his eyes, and seeing the three at the base of the stairs sprawled on top of one another. Bobby, grumbling about his aches, pulled himself out of the Winchester tangle. Noticing Sam lying on his stomach, Dean reached over and pulled Sam's hair away from his face. He looked like he was KO'd. "Sammy? Sammy?" he shook his shoulder, growing paranoid. "Sam!"

Finally Sam moaned. Oh Thank God!

"Bobby. Help me get him up," Dean commanded as he attempted to roll his sibling over.

Hisses. Strange piston-like hisses sounded. Dean looked all around for the source. He glanced up at the top of the stairs, thinking it were the rawheads—but even they couldn't hiss. The hissing grew louder, along with skittering, as though there were rats on the ceiling and in the walls.

The hairs on the back of his neck were at a standstill now and his gut practically did a Hawaiian lay-dance. "Bobby. Now!" he urged, hearing the scurrying rats edge closer. "Move, now!"

Pulling on Sam's arms, they brought him into a sitting position. "Sam wake up. Wake up kid. Come on," Dean patted his cheek. "Wake up now!"

The kid's eyes began to flutter, and he whined.

"That's good kiddo. Let's move," they finally lifted him to his feet, once again taking place under his arms.

The noises from the ceiling and the hisses grew worse, becoming larger in number. Dean's hairs were like stone, they were so tense. Something wasn't right. He stopped a brief second and looked again, focusing on the top of the entryway leading into Bobby's office room with the fireplace. The hisses mute, the scurrying slowed. It seemed the rats had stopped there.

Keeping his ears on high alert, he looked closer.

And suddenly a green head stuck out from under the protruding beam. Dean emitted a short gasp of fright, stepping back. The head had large black eyes as though it were made of obsidian glass and wicked heavy teeth, large sharp, and covered in gunk and dark saliva. It let off a deafening bat-like caterwaul with the look none other than something hungry for meat.

"Bobby RUN!"

Next more heads all popped under the ledge, all hissing and screeching. The first creature then moved toward them revealing a rather small gangly bluish green body, its spiny hands latched onto the ceiling with nasty jagged fingernails. It wove towards them with fascinating speed, bits of ceiling powder left in its wake.

The others also began to crawl their way. The first creature then leapt off, its body outstretched for the kill. Bobby tossed the gun to Dean. He lifted it the last second and the thing exploded from the shot, spraying them all in dark green entrails. The others, now climbing sideways on the walls, and the rest on the ceiling screamed in protest, and they doubled their efforts.

"What the hell are those things?" Dean cried shooting another.

"I don't know, but I'm not sticking around to find out," Bobby told him, looping an arm around Sam's waist and half-carrying him towards the basement door. "Dean. Move your ass!"

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted after them, keeping the gun handy—though out of ammunition. The bat-like things all dropped to the floor, straightening to a crouch revealing they were no more than three-feet tall with leathery muscular bodies. Dean was slightly repulsed by them. He ran for the basement door, the gargoyle replicas hot on his heels.

Bobby already had Sam halfway down the stairs by the time Dean ran in and closed it. The gargoyles screeched angrily digging their claws into the wood. Not wasting anymore time, Dean took the stairs three at a time, turning around, taking cover. He glanced all around, his breathing hard on his ears making it difficult to concentrate. A large creaking sound occurred and Dean knew Bobby had reached the Panic Room, dragging Sam inside.

He had nearly made it the short distance when an unsuspecting gargoyle leapt from the pillars. It dug its sharp claws into his back knocking him to the floor. Instinctively he rolled over raising the gun. The thing bit into the bar chiseling through the metal as though it were a marshmallow peep. So much for that idea!

"Holy Fuck!" Dean cried, still raising the gnawed-on gun. "Bobby!" The thing tore the gun away, swiping down its claws. Dean grabbed them at the last second pushing with all his might to keep them away. "BOBBY!"

The gargoyle went in for a stellar bite.

Dean closed his eyes but the horrendous agonizing pain never came. The thing was lifted off of him and thrown against the concrete wall, splattering into nothing. Dean looked up and saw none other than Cass, bloody, wrecked, but overall fine. The angel extended a hand, which Dean grabbed non-hesitantly.

"Are you alright?" Cass asked.

"Never better," Dean patted himself off. "Are you alright?"

"I'll live," came the curt response, whereupon Cass took Dean's arm and led him towards the opened cellar door. "Get inside. We'll be safe for now."

Dean was just ushered inside when the rawheads jumped down the basement stairs, growling menacingly. The gargoyles also were climbing the walls and ceiling making a steadfast beeline for them all. Cass waved his hand and the door closed in time for a gargoyle to stick its arm in, effectively lopping off the appendage. It fell with a loud 'splat' as the creature's howls of pain echoed and shook the walls.

Cass turned to the group. "Get comfy. It's gonna be a while."

Dun dun dun! The enemy had made its way into the house. Oh but it doesn't stop there I'm afraid. The boys have got one helluva fight on their hands, coming up next!

Oh, and here's a challenge. Who can tell me where the line "Holy Jumped Up Jesus Bald-headed Palomino" came from? I'll give you a hint! It came from an old Stephen King Movie. And it's one of my all time favorites! Whoever comes up with the answer gets a prize!

I'll try to be quick with the next update! Tootles!