"There are only a couple of spells that can charge up an archangel after a fight like the one against the Darkness." Sam dropped a pile of books in the middle of the table in the bunker. "And all of them are in these books."

Dean took a book from the stack. "I guess we'd better get cracking."

The Winchesters and Tara spent hours looking through the books. Sam would pace the room, reading, while Dean had grabbed a beer out of the fridge and would occasionally take a sip (or a gulp) while turning through the pages. Tara had one earbud in her ear, listening to some music to help her concentrate. There were times that someone would read a particularly interesting passage aloud, or someone made an odd remark (usually Dean), but mostly, they studied in silence.

"So get this," Sam said, breaking the quiet that had descended over the bunker. He read from the book in his hand. "The 'virtus quaestum' spell draws the power from the four phyla of the supernatural kingdom, as well as the basic spell ingredients. The spell allows for supernatural entities, especially powerful ones, to regain, maybe even increase, their previous potential."

"That would explain the werewolf blood," Tara stated.

"Wait a minute," Dean cut in. "What does it mean, "four phyla of the supernatural kingdom"?"

"It could be like groups, like how the animal kingdom is divided up."

"I read something about the supernatural phyla somewhere," Tara remembered, scanning the books on the table. She grabbed one and flipped through it, until she came to page she needed. She read the page aloud:

"Supernatural entities can be divided into four groups: ductu, a group based on instinct; imperium, those who rely on magic and/or powerful forces to survive; viribus, a group based on strength; and putaverunt, those who rely on psychological methods." She skimmed the page until she came to more helpful information. "Animalistic entities, such as werewolves, manticore, and chupacabras, can be classified in the ductu category, while more mythical creatures, such as dragons, vampires, and phoenixes, can be placed in the viribus category."

Tara stopped reading, and all three tried to make sense of the words that they had heard. "So let me get this straight," Dean started. "Lucifer needs blood from every category to complete his power-up spell. We stopped him from getting the werewolf blood, but probably not for long. By now, he's probably gotten what he needs."

"I think I know how," Sam said, looking at his phone. "I texted Garth and he says that hunters have found groups of dragons, werewolves, djinns, and witches dead.

Tara went over to the filing cabinets and pulled out a map of the U.S. She spread the map across the table and grabbed a red Sharpie. "Where were they found?"

"All of them were found not too far from here," Sam stated, a bit confused. "One in Hastings, Nebraska, and the other three were in towns in Kansas."

"Where?"

"Belleville, Phillipsburg, and Lucas."

She marked the locations on the map, and the three of them stared at the map, a realization dawning on all of them.

"We're in the middle of all of it," Dean said, tracing the lines with his finger. "Lucifer is creating a circle of death, and we're in the exact center."

Tara shook her head, bewildered. "But why the hell would he do that? Why would he show his hand like that?"

"You obviously don't know Lucifer," Sam said bluntly. "He's taunting us. He knows we have nothing to stop him, so he wants us to watch as he wins."

"It can't be over just like that," Tara said, glancing at the brothers' faces. "Even if the spell does work, it would take a while to accumulate that much power, so we'll still have time to stop it from completely finishing."

"There's something else, too." Eyes turned to Sam, whose eyes were focused at the book in his hand. "When the spell does complete, it does so explosively."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that anyone in a 20-mile radius is going to be plowed down by a blast as powerful as an atom bomb."

Tara fell back in her seat. "Holy shit."

"So what's our play?" Dean asked.

"Like Tara said, there are signs that the spell has already started."

"What kind of signs?"

"Basically, the ten plagues of Egypt: frogs, locusts, the whole shebang. Some biblical shit is about to happen."

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. "All we have to do is wait for fire to start raining from the sky."

Sam noticed that Tara looked a little pale. "Hey, you okay?"

She seemed to snap out of her daze. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I just need some air, that's all." She got up out of her chair and slipped out the bunker's door.

The brothers exchanged a glance, but said nothing about her odd behavior. "How are we gonna ice the devil?" Sam asked.

Dean rubbed his hands over his face. "I wish I knew, Sammy. We got nothing, and Lucifer knows it. Anything we do, we die."

Suddenly, Sam got an idea. "What if we corrupted the spell?"

"What do you mean, corrupt?"

"Like how you can infect a computer with a virus. We add an ingredient to the spell that, instead of giving him a power-up, drains his power."

"We can do that?"

"Theoretically, yes. We just have to find the right ingredient."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Grab a book."

Tara sat outside, her back braced against a tree, trying to catch her breath. Storm clouds gathered over her head, but she ignored them, forcing herself to calm down.

"Why are you freaking out, anyway?" She asked herself aloud. "It's only the devil himself. The Winchesters aren't worried, so why the hell are you?"

Tara hated feeling this weak and vulnerable. It was the end of the world, and it was an "all-hands-on-deck" situation, and she had become a quivering mess. Not that the Winchesters needed her, anyway. They'd defeat Lucifer with or without her.

She felt a drop of rain hit her forehead. When she wiped it off, she noticed that it seemed thicker than water would be. Looking down at her hand, she saw the liquid that she had wiped off of her forehead was a deep, dark red.

Realizing what it was, she quickly wiped it on the leaves on the forest floor. More drops hit her forehead, and suddenly blood was coming down from the sky in torrents. The air smelled of copper and there was a terrible sense of doom that swept through the woods as the sky turned black and thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Tara got up as quickly as she could, horrified, and took off toward the bunker, doing her best to shield herself from the blood pouring from the sky.

The door to the bunker slammed open, causing both brothers' heads to turn. Lightning flashed outside, revealing a figure in the doorway. The door slammed shut, and both brothers were on their feet, watching cautiously as the figure trudged down the stairs.

When it came into the light, Sam and Dean were taken aback. There stood Tara, covered with blood, looking like she just stepped out of a horror movie.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay?" Sam asked as he eyed her up and down, noticing the blood that soaked her from head to toe.

Tara tried to wipe the blood from her eyes, looking shocked and quite traumatized. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, as if trying to comprehend what had just happened. "You wanted plagues? Well, for starters, it's raining blood."

"That means it's already started. We have to find Lucifer now."

Before the group could figure out what this new information meant, Tara inquired, "Hey, I know this is serious and all, but could either one of you get me a towel?" Looking down at herself, she added, "Preferably not a white towel."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, leaving to get the towel, but turning around to add, "Just stay here. We don't want the blood getting everywhere." He left.

Looking down at herself again, and at the trail she'd left, she said, "Yeah, that's fair."

Dean tossed her the towel and she wiped the blood from her face and clothes. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a long shower." Looking at the red stain on the towel, she added. "Make that two long showers."

Tara left the room, still scrubbing to get the already-drying blood off of her face.

"Well, at least we finally have a starting point. If this is the spell I read about, then this should leave a trail, a trail leading straight to Lucifer."

"But why would he do that?" Dean pondered. "Why would he leave a trail for us to follow?"

Realization hit Sam like a train. "He wants us to find him. He knows that we have nothing to fight him with, so he's taunting us, daring us to confront him."

"So it's a trap? What if we just don't walk into it?"

"If he completes that spell, anyone in at least a 20-mile radius dies. We can't just sit by and watch when we can do something."

"No, we can't."

Sam ran his hand through his hair. "It really sucks to be the heroes sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Dean snorted. "Dude, have you seen our lives? It always sucks to be the heroes."

Sam shook his head, and silently pondered how their lives had come to this. A demon and a missing father? Yes please. Almost anything was better than this.

Then Sam cast a glance at his brother, who was searching the shelves for a book on tracking spells, and revised his statement. Almost anything was better than this. But it wasn't always the worst job in the world, either. It always helped to have someone to watch your back.

Dean called his brother over, and the two began preparing the spell

The spell was almost complete when Tara entered the library, hair soaked and all traces of blood gone from her body. She peered into the bowl, full of mystical ingredients. "So this should lead us to Lucifer?"

"Yeah. I have the angel feather ready, too, when the time comes to stop Lucifer's hex. The tracking spell should start working anytime now."

As if on cue, the bowl lit up with a blinding light. It shot smoke up into the air, painting a map and pointing to where the spell was being kept.

Realizing where it was, everyone's faces went white. "That's…that's not…" Dean stuttered, trying to find the words to describe the fear he felt deep in his bones.

"Chicago," Sam swallowed, forcing his panic back inside himself. "He's in Chicago."

"But you said everyone in a 20-mile radius would be obliterated!" Tara almost cried. "There are millions of people in Chicago. They're all going to die." She got very quiet, realizing the price of failure. "Millions of people could die."

"They're not going to," Dean said, gaining a new sense of resolve. The apocalypse would not come to pass, not on his watch. Not on their watch. "Sam?"

"Got it," Sam replied, already making his way toward the weapons closet. He pulled out shotguns and angel blades and bullets with devil's traps carved in them, talking as he worked. "Each plague happens every two hours, each closer to the point of the spell. We only have 12 hours, at most, to get there and stop the last plague before it wipes out every firstborn in the area, and definitely the whole thing goes up in flames."

"Okay, so work quickly. Got it," Tara said, but as she moved to grab her stuff, Dean stepped in front of her. "Hey, what gives?"

"You're not coming."

Tara shook her head, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. "I'm sorry?"

"You're not coming."

Tara was incredulous. "And why the hell not?"

"It's too dangerous. This is the devil we're talking about, kid, not some second-rate demon."

"Which is why you need me! I can help."

"No, no way."

Tara could feel her face getting hot. "What, are you afraid I'll get in the way? That I'll mess something up?"

"No, of course not." Dean was beginning to raise his voice too.

"Then why won't you let me come?! I don't have a lot to bring to the table, but I know that I am willing to die to make sure that Lucifer never wins!"

"You are not coming!"

"And why not?! Give me a reason. Give me one good reason!"

"Someone needs to look after the bunker while we're gone."

"The bunker can look after itself! I'm not a house-sitter, you know. I can fight! I can shoot!"

"For the last time you are NOT coming!"

"AND WHY THE FUCK NOT?"

"BECAUSE YOU COULD DIE!" Dean yelled. The whole bunker got strangely silent. Dean took a deep breath and spoke more calmly. "You could die, and that is not something we would like to see. At least one of us needs to live, and it's going to be you."

Tara's voice got really soft and gentle. "This is a suicide mission, you know that, right? An all-hands-on deck situation. If you think I'm going to stand around while you get yourselves killed—"

"Please." That was all it took. Tara stopped arguing, but Dean continued. "No one else dies for us. If we go out, we go out knowing that the people we care about are safe. And that's good enough."

Tara looked between Dean and Sam, who had briefly paused in his work and was currently fixated on the floor. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "I won't come with you."

"Thank you," Dean said as he and Sam left the room, leaving Tara alone with her thoughts.

Less than half an hour later, the brothers stood with the loaded Impala at their backs, and a distressed teen facing them. Tara didn't hesitate to hug each of the boys tightly, and didn't protest as Sam placed a light kiss to her hair, a display of familial affection she would definitely miss. She pushed back the tears in her eyes and the lump in her throat as she said, "You guys come back soon, you here?"

"Yes ma'am," Dean saluted, making her smile through the pain.

She never said goodbye, she only said "see you later", thinking that saying goodbye would make everything real, and with "see you later" maybe they'd get lucky and come back with only a couple of bruises and a great story. She heard the roar of the Impala coming to life, and watched as the boys drove away, and flashing a small smile when Sam waved from the window. She watched the car zoom down the road, standing still until the car had long disappeared from view.

Tara managed to hold in the tears until she got to the library. When she saw how the usually-full chairs were empty, and how the signs of life had all but disappeared from the room, she collapsed in a chair and sobbed. Her tears stained her cheeks, and the thought that no one was there to comfort her made it all worse. She hated this. She hated being alone.

She had other friends, somewhere. She hadn't seen them in forever, but they were like family. Maybe if she could find them….

NO! Her mind screamed as she brought her fist down hard on the wooden table top. Tara wasn't about to forget everything the Winchesters had done for her. She knew she had made a promise, but fuck it, this was important, a matter of life or death. This wasn't a game, and she'd be damned if she let them walk towards death alone.

She grabbed her laptop, typing out a message she had thought of writing one hundred times before. I'm about to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous, so if I die, know that I will miss you so much. Her fingers flew across the keys, and she hoped that would be enough to make them understand what she was doing and why. I'm sorry, but there are times to run and hide, and times to take a stand. Tara pressed send, essentially sending a suicide note to two people who'd probably never even see her body.

She stood up on shaking legs, a new resolve and energy flowing through her. "There are times to run and times to hide," she announced to an empty room. "But eventually, everyone has to stop running and face the reaper."

Tara stormed out of the room, grabbing her angel blade and making her way toward the garage. Sam and Dean wouldn't die alone. They wouldn't die at all, if she had some say in it. It was time to stop running. It was time to fight.

A/N: Hey Guys! School has been insane, but I plan to finish this story before season 13 starts, so hang tight!