A/N: I know there are reviews and messages that I haven't answered (hangs head in shame). I am truly sorry about that, because I do appreciate them so much. It's just been a very, very long week. I hate working for a living. It's hard and stuff :-P

Thanks to my beta isugirl, although I've made so many changes since she sent this chapter back that there are probably plenty of errors. I hope I'm not the only one that does that. I'd probably be annoyed by it if I was the beta.

The chapter title (Mother) is a Pink Floyd song from The Wall (1979).

XXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 20 - Mother

Buffy stared into her weapons trunk, trying to decide if she should take anything else with her when she went to the big face-off with Eve. She'd already retrieved the scythe and had it propped up against her desk while she pondered the rest of the trunk's contents. The scythe was an excellent all-purpose weapon, but she thought it would be a good idea to have some smaller ones for backup. It was hard to be over-prepared when you were about to go up against the Queen Mother of all monsters. So, she pulled out a wooden stake, two knives, a bottle of holy water, and a few other odds-and-ends and tucked them inside of her leather jacket.

Buffy was beyond ready for the Eve situation to be over and done with, especially after her recent conversation with Trish. The strain was obviously taking a toll on everyone, but Trish was just barely hanging on by a thread, a very thin thread. She'd gone to visit the girl that morning and what she saw convinced her that they had to move quickly. It had been less than a day since Buffy had last looked in on her and the change in her condition during that short time was dramatic. The girl now seemed to be having a hard time telling the difference between Eve's voice in her head and the voice of someone who was sitting right beside her. Plus, it was very hard to get her attention because she was so focused on drawing page after page of extremely graphic and disturbing pictures. Buffy guessed they were supposed to be scenes from Purgatory and it sure looked like one hell of a fun place. She was worried that Trish would be permanently damaged if Mommy wasn't taken care of soon.

She'd gone to see the young Slayer because she had a hunch that the girl could lead them to Eve. Once Buffy was able to get her to focus a little, her hunch seemed to pay off. There was a slight problem with that though. Trish seemed convinced that her psychic link to Eve went both ways. If that was true, it meant they'd lost the element of surprise. That sucked, but it was something they'd just have to deal with because there was no other alternative. Eve had managed to remain hidden from any spells Willow could cast and, apparently, even an angel wasn't capable of finding her. So, they had to take what they could get and make the best of it. At least they wouldn't have to go very far. According to Trish, Mommy was still in Cleveland. That info wasn't exactly shocking, but her precise location was a little surprising. Out of all the potential lairs in the city, Trish had identified the abandoned strip club they'd killed the shifter in, which seemed like a weird coincidence. Then again, maybe the shifter had just inherited her mother's taste in hideouts.

Buffy was closing and latching the lid on her trunk when she heard Willow say her name hesitantly from behind her. She turned to see her best friend standing with Faith and Sam just inside the doorway of her office. All three wore serious expressions on their faces.

"Why do I feel like I'm trapped in an intervention?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

Willow shrugged apologetically. "Maybe because this kinda is one?"

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her and steeled herself for the coming argument. She'd been expecting it, so she wasn't unprepared. "Save it," she said flatly. "I'm going."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Willow disagreed gently. She was obviously trying to walk the fine line between being a supportive friend and a dealer of tough love.

"Sorry Will," Buffy replied as she raised her chin stubbornly. "It's not your decision. End of discussion."

"Buffy, be reasonable," Sam pleaded in his most persuasive tone. "You really don't need to go. Dean wouldn't want you to… not if he knew."

"But he doesn't know."

"I could tell him," Sam threatened with a raised eyebrow.

Buffy immediately decided she was going to have the most trouble with him (thanks to Faith's big mouth). He was quickly going all 'well-meaning, protective male' on her. He was definitely Dean's brother.

"You won't," Buffy replied with certainty. "You wouldn't do that to him. You know it would just stress him out more. So, save the empty threats."

Sam frowned and looked over at Faith. He was obviously hoping she could make an impact, but Faith looked a little unsure. As a fellow Slayer, Buffy felt certain that she understood her position more than anyone. She was probably on the fence.

"Come on, B," Faith reasoned. "Why don't you just stay here? I get that you don't wanna be stuck on the sidelines, but things are different now. You can tell Dean you're just staying behind with Willow to help guard the fort. He'll buy it."

Buffy sighed in frustration. "That's not the point. I'm not letting him go in there without me. Period. We're in this together. I promised him we'd fix this and I'm not going back on that."

"But things have changed Buffy," Sam argued. "You have to think about your baby now."

Buffy knew Sam was just concerned, but she couldn't help getting a little irritated with him. Especially since she had a feeling this was just a G-rated preview of what she'd be dealing with once Dean was 'in the know'. Maybe she could find a cave to hide in for the next eight months.

"I am thinking about my baby," she replied tightly. "My baby needs a father and I'm going to make sure it has one. You don't understand Sam. If anything happened to Dean and I didn't do everything I could to help him, I'd never forgive myself… and I'd never be able to look my child in the eyes. Everything depends on what happens out there today. Everything," she emphasized. "If we don't take out Eve, my baby won't have a life. Not one worth living anyway. I don't have a choice."

The expression on Sam's face made it obvious that he didn't agree with her arguments. He was losing his patience with her, but Buffy wasn't going to back down. She had to do this, even if it meant everyone thought she was a horrible person.

"I'm going," she said flatly. "My mind's made up. When we get all this settled, I promise you I'll be more than happy to hang up the stake for a few months and take it easy… but not until then. I'm sorry if you don't understand, but I have to do this."

Sam shook his head. "Fine," he stated, "but when Dean finds out and he's pissed as hell at you, don't say I didn't tell you so."

Buffy tried to hide her smile because Sam was giving her what Dean referred to as his 'full-on bitchface'. It was inappropriate given the situation, but she had a sudden urge to giggle. He looked like an angry bull.

"Don't worry Sam," she said, managing to force herself to sound serious. "I'll deal with Dean when the time comes."

XXXXXXXXXX

Crowley had decided that he was going to disembowel someone (slowly and painfully) if this surveillance plan of his didn't yield some results soon. He was on the verge of literally dying from boredom. For days on end, he'd done nothing but watch Castiel drone on and on about Raphael and battle strategy and more Raphael and more battle strategy. This was the most horrible and tedious television series ever aired, hands down. C-Span was more exciting than this travesty.

He'd become so desperate that he was on the verge of trusting one of his lackeys to watch for him until something interesting happened. Then, static flashed across the screen (something that always happened when the angel was flapping his wings as he went about on an errand). When the picture refocused, Crowley was actually grateful to see the face of Dean Winchester splashed across the screen in front of him. Granted, it was extremely annoying that the man looked like he belonged on television, but finally Crowley had hit pay dirt. He'd be able to find out what Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys knew about Eve (and about him) and if he was lucky, he'd also find out what Cas was hiding. It might not be another wasted day after all.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Where is Eve?" Castiel asked Dean urgently almost the second he appeared in front of him.

Dean had his weapons laid out on the break room table and was busy giving them one last double check when he'd decided it was time to call Cas. He paused to look up at his friend and raised an eyebrow at his abrupt manner. "Keep your pants on. We'll see her soon enough."

"Where is she?" he asked again.

"An abandoned titty bar," Dean replied flippantly as he stuffed the weapons into his duffel. "Apparently those are real popular with monsters these days."

Castiel blinked at Dean in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand," he replied.

"You know… a strip club?"

"Why would she be at a strip club?" he asked earnestly.

"You got me," Dean shrugged. "She is a single mom with millions of kids. She probably needs the cash."

Castiel nodded as if he understood, although Dean doubted it.

"Are you ready to go?" the angel pressed impatiently.

"Jeez Cas," Dean replied a little irritably. "Give me a minute. We've gotta wait on a few people first. Everybody needs a chance to stock-up on weapons. Besides, don't you even want to know the plan?"

"Yes of course," he agreed, although he didn't sound very sincere. "What is the plan?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. Cas was one seriously impatient bastard these days. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the 'sacred' piece of antler and held it out so the angel could look at it.

"I'm supposed to stick her with this magic bone," he said with a smirk. "Impressive, huh?"

The angel cocked his head and stared curiously at the weapon. He appeared very surprised to see it.

"Where did you find that?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "Sam found it stashed away in the old Campbell compound. Why? Do you know what it is?"

"Yes, one of your predecessors used it to banish Eve to Purgatory," Cas replied simply.

"And you're just now telling me this?" Dean asked incredulously. "Didn't you think that was relevant? Damn Cas! We could've went lookin' for this thing months ago. What's up with the secrecy?"

"I'm sorry Dean," he answered sincerely. "I assumed that it no longer existed. It's nothing more than a fragment of organic material. It should be dust by now."

Dean frowned as he regarded the relic in his hand. "So, you're saying it's not magic?"

"It was used to banish Eve," Castiel said in reply.

"Okaay… Got that. But, will it work?" Dean pressed.

"It worked last time."

"Well thank you Mister Information Guy," Dean said as he threw up his hands in frustration. "Dude, we're all about to put our asses on the line. I could use something more definite."

"You don't have to worry, Dean," he replied seriously. "If it does not work, I will deal with her."

Dean sighed in resignation and shoved the relic back in his pocket. Sometimes having a conversation with Cas was like pulling teeth. "Fine," he said. "Whatever. You can smite the nasty skank back to the Stone Ages for all I care. As long as she gets ganked, I'm not too picky. You can even send her ass to hell if it makes you happy."

"Why would you think I'd do that?" Castiel asked suspiciously.

Dean crinkled his brow and shot his friend a 'what the hell?' expression. "Dude, I don't know. Because she's a bitch, maybe? I'm just sayin', I don't care as long as it gets done."

"It will get done," the angel assured him.

"Wonderful," Dean stated in a voice thick with exasperation. "Glad that's settled." He paused for a minute before broaching the next subject. After his conversation with Sam and Bobby, he really didn't want to talk to Cas about Crowley. It made him feel like a traitor, but he decided it was better he do it himself than to let Bobby and Sam handle it. They'd probably turn it into the freakin' Inquisition. "Any word on Crowley?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "You think the bastard really gave you the slip?"

A grim expression fell over the angel's features and he no longer met Dean's gaze. "I'm still investigating," he replied shortly. "I'm not yet certain."

"Just askin'," Dean said. "You know we'll give you a hand with that as soon as Eve's in the ground. That black-eyed dick is next on my shitlist."

"That won't be necessary. If I made a mistake and Crowley is alive, I will deal with him myself."

"Wow, you're like the Lone Ranger these days," Dean observed. "Just don't be afraid to ask us for help, man. Remember, me and Sam are pretty damn good at hunting down demons. Besides, if Crowley did get one over on you, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. He's one shifty son of a bitch. Nobody's perfect."

"But I'm an angel, Dean."

"Yeah, I know. No offense dude, but you guys haven't exactly proven yourselves perfect. I'm not tryin' to bust your balls here. I'm just sayin' we can help. We want to help," he emphasized seriously. "Believe me, I want Crowley gone just as much as you do."

XXXXXXXXXX

The human branch of the hunting party (which consisted of Dean, Buffy, Sam, Faith, and Bobby) suddenly found themselves standing in the abandoned lot in front of the rundown old strip club Eve was supposedly hiding out in. They all looked at one another in surprise. It wasn't something they'd been expecting.

"Cas, what the hell?" Dean snapped. "Give a warning next time because I sure as hell wasn't planning on taking the angel express today. Jeez," he exclaimed irritably. "Don't you realize this place is only a twenty-minute drive across town? It's not worth the digestive problems. Plus, we were planning on bringing more Slayers along," he complained.

"This way seemed more expedient," he replied unapologetically. "We don't need anyone else."

Dean shook his head angrily. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled. "Dude, you better have your smite on, because I'm ready to get this shit over with. You're getting on my damn nerves today. You need to take a freakin' bottle of Valium or something. I think you've been spending way too much time with those dickheads upstairs. You're losing all your social skills."

"I don't have a lot of time, Dean. I needed to move things along."

"Whatever. Just remember that when this thing is over, the rest of us are walkin' back home. Hell, I'll boost a Goddamned car if I have to, but I'm not doing that twice in one day. Not if I don't have to. I hate that shit!"

"Okay," Castiel agreed calmly.

Bobby shook his head at the two. "I hate to interrupt your rant, Sunshine," he remarked to Dean, "but what's the plan? Do we just knock on the door? I don't think we ever got the chance to establish that," he added as he directed a pointed gaze toward Castiel.

"We might as well," Buffy said. "I'm pretty sure she already knows we're here. No use trying to be all sneaky."

"Guess not," Bobby agreed with a sigh. "Why don't you lead the way, Cas? Since you're so anxious to meet the bitch. We wouldn't wanna get in your way," he said sarcastically.

"That is fine," he replied stoically. "I will lead the way."

Bobby rolled his eyes and swept his hand toward the club's entrance. "Be my guest."

Before Castiel could touch the handle, the door swung open. Eve was standing just across the threshold, smiling calmly at the new arrivals. She was still wearing the same white dress with no shoes, but her innocent appearance was ruined by the fact that she had fresh blood stains on her dress and hands.

"Welcome," she said warmly. "I've been expecting you." She stepped back a few feet so that the group could enter. "Don't mind my children," she said as she nodded her head toward the twenty or so assorted monsters that were stationed around the barroom. "They won't hurt you unless I let them."

"That's comforting," Dean remarked as he followed behind Cas. He'd never seen so many different freaks in one place. It looked like Eve had picked out the biggest and ugliest of each litter and used them to assemble the world's most fucked-up personal guard. All the big players were there. She had vampires, both real and fake (he'd have to show Buffy the real one), a rugaru, a wraith, and almost anything else he could think of, including some really bizarre looking creatures he'd never seen before. The thing with the snot-covered antlers was just ridiculous. Why would she even bother making something like that? Just looking at it made him want to go take a shower. Hopefully he'd catch a break and be able to get out of here before he got too contaminated. If Eve stayed put, he might just get to take a stab at her on his way in the door. But, as usual, he wasn't catching any breaks. Just before he got close, she moved several yards away to stand across the room. She held out her hands to indicate several stools that still stood at the bar and the one table that remained in the otherwise empty club.

"Please, have a seat," she requested pleasantly.

"I think we'd rather stand," Buffy replied as she held the scythe up in front of her.

Eve smiled benignly and shook her head. "Now Buffy," she scolded lightly. "I'd hoped that your manners would've improved since our last meeting. Please try to behave yourself. As a mother, I really don't want to have to smack you around in your condition… but, I'll do what I have to," she added seriously.

Dean observed the exchange curiously, unsure of what to make of it. He tried to catch Buffy's eye, but she seemed reluctant to look at him.

"We can sit," Buffy said quickly before turning nervously toward the group. "Why don't we sit?" she asked a little too loudly.

"Why the hell not?" Bobby replied with a resigned sigh. "We may as well get good and comfy before we die."

Dean and Buffy slid backwards onto the two stools sitting at the bar and the rest of the group, aside from Castiel, sat cautiously at the table. The angel stood back. He appeared to be observing the scene with great intensity.

"Thank you," Eve said politely. "I'd hoped we could have a little chat because I'd like to give you one more chance to be reasonable. This doesn't have to be so hard. To be completely honest, I'd like to make it as painless as possible."

"That's awfully nice of you," Buffy replied sarcastically.

Eve continued to smile blandly at Buffy. "I know you think I'm evil," she said, "and I hate to disappoint you, but I'm really not. Granted," she shrugged, "I guess it does sort of depend on your perspective. But the truth is, I'm just a part of nature."

"Oh please," Buffy said. "You're not gonna start with that natural order hoopla are you? Because – just so you know – I'm really tired of that tune."

"Believe what you want," she replied, "but I assure you that I used to be a great respecter of the natural order of things. I was happy with my slice of the pie. I was even at peace with the Slayer. I decided that her existence was more than fair. After all, what's one girl compared to all of my children?" she asked as she held out her arms to indicate the room filled with monsters. "But then everybody got greedy. You decided to activate all the potentials," she scolded as she pointed at Buffy and then turned toward Cas before continuing in a disgusted tone. "Then Castiel's cronies decided they just had to have an apocalypse. And what did it all accomplish? Nothing but chaos," she said in reply to her own question. "Now everything is completely out-of-control and I have to watch as my children are tortured by a filthy demon. You have no idea what that's like."

"What demon?" Dean demanded.

She looked at Dean impassively before replying. She seemed annoyed that he was daring to address her. "Crowley, of course," she said. "You should know that. Dean, is it?"

"Yeah. That's me."

"I've heard of you," she said, sounding unimpressed. "You've taken quite a few of mine. Which is fine. I can understand that. They kill some of you, turn some of you, and then you hunt them and send them back home to me. It's a nice little system. But, I also hear you worked for Crowley," she added in a much harder tone. "That I'm not so fine with."

"Sorry," Dean shrugged unapologetically.

"That's right," Eve said with a tight smile. "You don't think my children matter. They're just monsters to you."

Faith snorted. "Please lady, look around. It's pretty much a wall-to-wall monster movie in here. You're not getting the sympathy vote from any of us. So, don't waste your breath."

Eve shook her head and sighed. "Fine, I won't discuss philosophy with you simple creatures. I realize you don't have the mental capacity for it. But I am a mother," she added as she made a point to meet Buffy's gaze. "You know that a mother will do anything to protect her children. That's all I've been doing."

Buffy stared back defiantly. "So, that's your excuse for sneaking up behind a teenage girl and slitting her throat without even giving her a chance to fight back? You were just protecting your poor helpless little children? Real noble. I'm impressed."

"You're talking about the shifter," Eve observed. "As a matter of fact, I had nothing to do with that. That was all Crowley. Of course, I have to admit that I did benefit from it. If my girl hadn't killed Faith, I might still be searching for the Stolen One. That's why we're here," she said as she indicated the room around her. "We're here to honor her. This is where she sacrificed herself to the greater good."

"The greater good?" Faith asked incredulously. "Are you serious? Cause - if so - you're severely fucked in the head… and in case you didn't notice, I ain't dead."

"But you were," Eve stressed as she strolled toward the table where Faith was seated. "It may have only been for a minute, but you were still dead. That's what's important. But, I have to admit that for a while there, I was very confused," she admitted with a frown. "I didn't understand why I couldn't sense her. I thought it was because there were so many Slayers now, but I was being foolish actually. I should have known."

"Should have known what?" Faith spat back angrily.

"You know the story," she replied patiently. "One Slayer dies, another one gets called… Even if you had a million Slayers, it would still work that way. No matter how much magic you throw at it, the natural order is still there, just waiting to be restored."

"Which means?" Buffy asked.

Eve looked away from Faith and turned her attention toward Buffy before replying in a patronizing tone. "It means that the core of my stolen power lies in a true chosen one, not in one of those imposters your witch created. They may have the power, but they weren't chosen. You Faith," she said as she reached out to stroke her hair gently. "You were chosen… and so was Buffy, but unfortunately, I couldn't use either of you. You've both been, shall I say… corrupted."

Faith cringed away from Eve's hand. "Give me a break. Please tell me you're not making this about lame-ass virginity. You've had what? A billion kids by now? How do you think you got knocked up all those times?"

"I'm a Goddess," she replied as she folded her arms and regarded Faith smugly. "I hold the power of creation. I don't need to debase myself."

Dean laughed. "Guess that explains why you're such a bitch then. You haven't been laid in a zillion years. No wonder. I'd be pissed too."

Eve stepped over toward where Dean was seated. She seemed to be losing her patience with his interruptions, which was fine with him. He needed her to get closer so he could end this thing and it looked like he was about to finally get his chance. He kept a tight grip on the antler hidden in his pocket as she stepped up close to him and regarded him with a hard stare. She started to open her mouth to say something when he decided it was time to make his move. He whipped out the makeshift dagger and stabbed it at her chest using every bit of force he had.

"Whoops," Dean said when he realized that the weapon hadn't even penetrated Eve's skin. He and Buffy traded wide-eyed glances before Eve calmly took the relic from his hand. She turned and gave a slight nod to several of the creatures standing nearby and then the entire club descended into complete chaos.

With a chorus of growls and snarls, every creature in the room advanced on Dean. They obviously weren't too happy that he'd tried to attack their Mommy. Dean was learning what it felt like to be completely screwed (once again). He blindly threw punches and tried to avoid teeth and claws as he struggled to whip out his knife. There was too much confusion to try to shoot a gun off at the moment. Even though the noise level was almost deafening, he could still hear Sam shouting and the whirring sound made by Buffy's scythe as she diced up as many monsters as she could. He caught a glimpse of Cas' trenchcoat through the melee and it was hard to get a good look at him, but it appeared that he was just standing there, staring off into space. It didn't look like he was going to open up a can of angelic wrath anytime soon. They were on their own.

Dean managed to free his bowie knife and used it to slash wildly at the creatures surrounding him. He could feel a thick stream of blood running down his chest and back where two different sets of claws had sliced completely through his jacket and both shirts. His arms and legs also burned with an assortment of cuts and gouges, plus he'd been bitten a few times. He was royally fucked, but he was still determined to do as much damage as he could for as long as he could. He desperately hoped that some of the others would make it out. He knew Buffy and Faith had the best chance, but Sam and Bobby might be able to pull through too, simply because it was damn obvious that the freaks were mostly focused on getting to him. He was a popular guy.

Dean kicked, punched, and stabbed his way several feet across the room so that he could get his back against a wall. By this point, he was too occupied to be very aware of what was going on in the rest of the club. He just knew that he was currently being tag-teamed by one hell of a gigantic fake-vampire and what he swore was a Wendigo (even though this was definitely not their usual stomping grounds). He went for his pistol, thinking he was close enough to his target for it to be safe. A bullet wouldn't kill either one of these creatures, but it would still hurt like hell. He'd just pressed the barrel against the vamp's chest when its head disappeared from its shoulders and it turned to dust. He thanked God that he hadn't pulled the trigger, because Buffy was standing behind the cloud with her scythe raised. She quickly brought the stake end around and ran it completely through the Wendigo's back and chest. The creature gave one long, ear piercing shriek before slumping over limply. Dean didn't think you could kill one without fire, but the scythe was once again an exception to the usual rules. Buffy put a foot against the creature's torso and kicked its body free from her weapon, then spun around with it raised, ready to take on whatever else might be coming.

Dean kept his blade arm held out in front of him as he dropped the pistol and his body began sliding down the wall behind him. His legs had decided to quit on him, so he had no choice in the matter. His arms were pretty much done for as well, but luckily, it didn't seem that there were any more immediate threats. In fact, the entire club had gone almost deathly silent since the Wendigo had fallen. He gazed around cautiously and saw piles of dead monsters and body parts lying scattered around the barroom floor. Faith was standing in the middle of them holding a huge blade. She was breathing heavily, but appeared to be uninjured. Every single one of Eve's kids had been put down and, judging from the carnage, his money was on Buffy and Faith for the majority of the kills. He couldn't see Sam or Bobby from where he was sitting, but he heard them calling his name and hoped his jumbled brain wasn't imagining things. He couldn't believe they were both still alive. It almost qualified as a genuine miracle. Of course, on the flip side, he was bleeding to death from several different deep gashes. If that didn't kill him first, he was sure he'd been infected by the bite of at least one of the freaks. He knew for a fact that a werewolf had taken a good chunk out of his left shoulder.

After she'd confirmed that there were no more takers, Buffy spun back around to look at Dean. He'd never seen her so pissed off and focused before. She'd actually turned into the pure embodiment of the Slayer. The girl he knew as Buffy was almost unrecognizable underneath it all. It was amazing to see her like that, but more than anything, he was just so grateful that she was alive. She was better than that even, she actually seemed relatively unharmed. Sure, her hair was everywhere and there were a few gashes on her face, but otherwise she looked and moved like she was okay. That was more than he could've asked for. At least he hadn't had to watch Buffy die just because he'd failed again. That was not the last sight he wanted to see on this earth.

He realized that he must look every bit as bad as he felt when the fierce expression melted from Buffy's face and was replaced by a wide-eyed stare of horror. All the color drained from her cheeks and she knelt beside him, almost in a panic. She quickly ripped off a large section of his shirt that had already been pretty well shredded, wadded it up and then held it up uncertainly. She didn't seem to be able to decide which gushing wound needed to be tended to first. To be honest, it didn't matter.

She finally dropped the arm holding the cloth and put her other hand against his cheek. "Dean, please hold on," she pleaded. "We'll get you some help. You've just got to hang in there for a little while. I can't do this without you," she said desperately.

Dean tried to focus on Buffy, but she was swimming in and out of his vision. She was crying, which made him feel guilty and like a giant fuck-up. She seemed to be trying to tell him something. He thought he heard the word 'baby', but that couldn't be right. His eggs were scrambled. He tried to concentrate because he really wanted to understand. It was just so hard to hear her over the pounding in his head. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder and tried to force himself to say something comforting, but his brain and his mouth were no longer cooperating with one another. The world around him had an unreal quality to it and the edges of his vision were beginning to get foggy. From where he was sitting, he could see Eve's bare legs and feet as she slowly walked up behind Buffy. He squeezed her shoulder, hoping she'd turn around in time to avoid whatever the bitch had planned. Buffy did turn to look up at Eve, but the creature didn't try to attack her. She just gazed down at the both of them with a smug smile on her features. She appeared completely unruffled by all the carnage. So much for the loving mother defense. She didn't even seem to notice the bodies. Instead, she just stood there calmly holding up the confiscated piece of antler.

"It's been a long time," she remarked thoughtfully as she examined the relic. "I'm surprised this thing is still around. Too bad it's completely useless," she said as she squeezed her hand tightly around it and the ancient piece of bone disintegrated into millions of tiny dust particles, which Eve casually dusted from her hands.

"Nice try," she said. "I don't suppose I can blame you for taking a shot at it. Too bad it's no good without the Michael Sword. I guess he's still in the pit with Lucifer," she added with an indifferent shrug. "At least that's what I've heard. The truth is, I lost my power of sight when those men made the Slayer. Since then, I can only see and hear through my children. It's the one thing I've really missed," she remarked wistfully. "I'll be glad to get it back."

Dean watched in confusion as the powdered remains of the 'sacred weapon' floated to the floor. What the hell had gone wrong? His blood stream was filled with poison and he wasn't sure he could add two and two anymore, but he was still pretty damn sure he was the Michael Sword. If he wasn't and the angels had just been jerking him around for kicks… he was gonna be pissed. He glanced over toward Cas and any shred of hope he may have had was shattered. The angel was still standing like a statue just inside the doorway. It didn't appear that he'd even moved a muscle since they'd entered the place. Castiel didn't say anything. He just gazed back at him mutely with eyes that were wide with confusion and something that looked very much like panic.

Eve smiled when she noticed that Dean was desperately focused on the angel. "Guess you're wondering about him?" she asked. "Don't worry. He's okay. I just turned him off for a while. Angels are so tiresome. I can't bear to listen to them."

"You turned him off?" Sam asked, sounding completely astounded.

"I see you're surprised," Eve observed. "It's not that hard actually. I was around way before he was. Let's just say, I know a few things he doesn't."

"Great," Bobby remarked under his breath. "Ain't this just friggin great."

Eve ignored him and took a couple of steps backward so that she could observe the entire group. "Is that it? Can we move along now?" she asked expectantly as she swept her gaze over them all. "Good," she said pleasantly after she was met with stunned silence. "Because, here's the deal… I need the Stolen One and you have her. She's sixteen, pure, very pretty. I'm fairly sure you call her Trish. Although it's hard to get much out of that one," she added with what sounded like pride. "The girl's tough. She's done an admiral job of trying to block me out. Of course, she is chosen, after all. The chosen ones will always be stronger," she emphasized. "Anyway," she shrugged, "you bring her to me and I'll let you all live. I'll even let the angel fix that one," she said as she flicked a hand toward Dean. "Don't get me wrong. I can get her myself. But, the thing is, it might take me a few more days and, honestly, I'm tired of all the waiting around. I've watched Crowley torture enough of my children already. Luckily for you, he's the one I really want. So last chance… What will it be?"

Dean was only half-listening to Eve's 'deal'. It was hard to pay attention to the crazy bitch's rambling when he was busy dying and/or going insane from monster venom. He was definitely going insane (that much was certain) because it was the only thing that explained why he could clearly hear Chuck Shurley's voice. His voice was so clear in fact, that it almost sounded like the guy was actually standing right beside him. What the hell? He had nothing against Chuck, but it wasn't exactly his dying wish to hear his voice one more time. But, regardless, the voice kept getting louder and more insistent, so Dean decided he may as well try and pay attention to it. The guy was supposedly a big-shot prophet. Maybe he had something important to tell him. So, he forced himself to focus and soon realized that Chuck was simply repeating the same phrase over and over again. 'It's your blood that's important… It's your blood that's important…' Okay, great… but what did that mean? He wished dude would shut up for a second so he could think about it. Then an image of Giles popped into his head. (Why couldn't he at least think about sex when he was dying?) Giles… Giles… Giles, Dean thought. What's up with Giles? Then he remembered. He'd told Giles that being the Michael Sword had 'something to do with having the right blood'. Blood again. That had to be important. As if in reply, Chuck suddenly went quiet. Either Dean was onto something or Imaginary-Chuck was just tired of fooling with him.

He craned his head around as he tried to take in his surroundings. He could see Buffy's lips moving and, judging from the expression on her face, she was probably telling Eve where she could stick her 'deal'. He was almost startled to see Sam's face just inches away from him. His brother was kneeling beside him and watching him worriedly. That was weird. He hadn't realized Sam was that close. He was really losing it. Then, he ran his gaze up the wall behind him and noticed that the previous owners had left their dartboard behind. That seemed extremely interesting for some reason. So, he kept staring at it, trying to figure out why it was so fascinating. It was just a standard dartboard. No different from the thousands he'd seen in other bars and clubs around the country. There were even two darts still sticking in the cork. Yahtzee. That was it. The darts. Dean knew what he had to do.

He turned back toward Buffy and realized that she was holding one of his hands. He squeezed her hand to draw her attention to him and focused every last bit of energy and concentration into making his mouth work. He just needed maybe two more minutes. Surely he could hold it together for that much longer.

"Distract her," he whispered. At least he thought he'd managed a whisper. Buffy knitted her brows and stared back at him in confusion, so he tried again. Finally, she mouthed the words back to him with a questioning expression on her face. Dean nodded and stared into her eyes, hoping he could communicate his urgency that way. Even though she still looked extremely confused, she let go of his hand and stood up. He realized that she was trying to get Eve to grant her 'dying wish' by telling her which vampires were fake and which were real. She was on an epic ramble about it too. He wished he could afford to stop and listen. That had been bugging the hell out of him for months. But, he had other things to worry about. He needed to move his ass while he was still halfway able to.

He reached out and grabbed a handful of Sam's jacket and pulled him in as closely as he could. "Help me up," he groaned. But, just like Buffy had done moments before, Sam was giving him a wounded puppy/deer-in-the-headlights look. It sucked to have to struggle just to string a few syllables together. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Please," he ground out as he pulled on his brother's jacket as hard as he could for emphasis. Sam looked at him like he was crazy, but he finally started moving. He was probably just humoring the insane dying guy, because he didn't look very sure about his task. But, he did it. That was the important thing. Dean was now sort of standing with his back leaning against the wall and Sam supporting him on one side. The dartboard was only inches from his hand. Thirty more seconds, that was all he needed. After that, he could blackout and die or turn into some sort of freaky combination of all the different monsters that had taken a bite out of him. What the hell would you even call a thing like that?

Dean tried to be stealthy as he pulled the darts from the board, but that wasn't his strong point at the moment. He got them though. So, either Buffy was really good at causing a distraction or Eve didn't give two shits about what he was up to. He decided it was probably a little of both. He gripped the darts tightly so he wouldn't drop them and covered their tips in the blood that was seeping from one of the deep gouges on his chest. Here goes, he thought as he transferred one of the darts to his left hand and raised his right arm to throw. Hopefully his aim was still good. He'd certainly spent enough time playing darts in crap bars for it to be an automatic response. It was now or never.

Only seconds had passed, but Dean felt like it had been years since he'd let the dart fly. He could hear his brother asking "What the hell are you doing?" but he was focused on the amazing fact that the dart was actually sticking in Eve's right shoulder. She stared down at it for a long moment with a shocked look on her face and then doubled over, clutching herself in pain. Blood gushed from her ears, mouth, nose, and eyes and her flesh appeared to be quickly decaying. The body of the murdered girl she was wearing was withering around her.

"You," she gasped as she looked over at Dean with agony and disbelief on her features.

Dean really wanted to gloat. He really did. But, he was about to blackout for good. He was pretty sure he did manage to give her the finger though. Not too bad as far as final words go. He even felt strangely at peace as everything went black around him. For once, the people he loved had all survived the big showdown. His death just didn't seem that important.

XXXXXXXXXX

A/N: I'm not big on spoilers, but I hate gratuitous cliffhangers even more. You don't seriously think I'd actually kill Dean, do you? I just ended it here because I (once again) overestimated what would reasonably fit into one chapter. Oh, the joys of having no idea what you're doing. Dean has to survive so that his brain can explode when he fully remembers all the things Chuck told him :-)

Also, I did want to say that I didn't include Lenoir because I didn't want to whump the crap out of Willow and then not have the time or space to deal with it properly. That didn't seem like a very nice thing to do.