A/n: Hello, everyone. Feels like an eternity since I've been here. Your attempts to send me to hell are the only things that made me post this chapter. Sorry for the *very* late delivery. Oh, and before you start with the story, (but after you've read it, obviously), I'd love it if you guys left a review. *Pretty please?*

Dean had no idea what to do now. The knife, his knife was in the hands of the evil teacher. The first weapon he had ever held, a tenth birthday present from his dad, being in the hands of something that seemed to radiate evil, made him fell like punching something. Hard. Preferably using his left hand. He had no idea why he was getting so worked up abut a stupid Bowie, but then again- it was his stupid Bowie. He swiveled around to look at Sam's math teacher, see if any plan had been formulated but to no avail. That left the oldest trick in the book that would be the very intruiging art of distraction.

"Christo," he muttered under his breath to get the demon i front of him from pointing the knife anywhere in the general vicinity of his younger brother.

The creature flinched a little but did nothing else other than proceeing to give Dean the stink eye. So Dean decided to keep up the task.

"Christo," He was almost shouting now. Dean was past caring if someone in the crowd shot him weird but still somehow terrified glances. Sam seemed to have caught up yo what Dean was doing. They both chanted the Latin word for God and Dean was pretty sure he heard Sam squeak. He mentally grinned because now he had ammo against Sam. If only he had recorded Sammy's rendition of 'Christo'.

The demon kept on turning his head from side to side which shouldn't have been possible unless it was an exorcism. Whatever, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. he and Sam kept up their rap battle. Dean moved a step, which did not help his already viciously throbbing arm. He yelped and could feel Sam throw one of those 'I told you so' glares his way. But while Sam was engrossed in the demon in front of him, Dean turned to ask Ms. Dame to join them. The sight in front of him must have left his mouth hanging open and eyes wide because half a second later, Sam too had turned to look at what had caught Dean's attention. What they had not expected to see was Ms. Dame doing the Same bizarre flinching thing as Dean's teacherwhile her eyes flashed black.


It felt wrong somehow, that both of Ms. Dame's eyes should be covered in black, when she only had one working one to begin with. And it felt even more wrong that that was what bothered Dean the most when there were far more pressing issues to subdue. For instance, the fact that their only ally had been for so long, against them the whole time. Or the fact that they were trapped with no idea that the opposition was planning. Or the fact that Dean's hand was starting to go numb, but hot numb not the icy cold one would expect. Ms. Dame took a step and tried to face everyone- Sam and Dean and the school students.

"Why?" That was Dean's first question. What the heck did they want from them, possessing a hunter. The math teacher was clearly a hunter though her floral attire may say otherwise. Because for 1- she was hiding a silver knife in her brown boots, just like Dean does and 2- she looked like one of them. It was all in the eyes, what knowledge command man was not privy to could do to someone. But above all it was a gut feeling, like the times Dean could just sense something evil and rarely something good.

"Why?" She mock questioned.

"Why?" She did it again. "Maybe because were falling short on meat suits and there's hundreds of our kind."

"Well why a teacher then?" Sam spelt out what had been on Dean's mind.

"Oh. Teachers are, see, they're strong. But we chose them on random. Dead teachers don't complain. No proresting. No fun. Oh well, I guess beggars can't be choosers." Ms. Dame or rather the thing possessing her said.

"Your definition of fun is very different from mine, bitch," Dean retorted.

"Shut up," Mr. Rosemary's turn to speak. "Yeah, kids are pure, innocent," He held out a hand and touched Dean's cheek lightly. Dean tried to lean away but by then his fingers had drifted somewhere else. "Sort of," he completed.

Dean tightened the grip around his arm, suddenly afraid of what Dorothy Dame could do. It hurt more but at least now it was protected.

Then something weird happened. All three demons in the room spoke to the gathering of students together.

"All you have to do is say 'yes' and we promise you you'll have whatever kind of life you want,"

"In heaven," Dean muttered to himself, maybe a little too loud for Rosie side-eyed him.

"You might want to shut up now," Lavender spoke. "You all want to live, don't you?" She asked facing the group of students. When no one answered, she emphasized- "Don't you?"

They all echoed each other. "Yes"

Sam's eyes widened in realization. Dean got it a second later.

"No," Sam muttered. "No, no, no, this can't be happening. You TRICKED them! It isn't fair, there has gotta be some kind of rule against unfair means of consent," Dean was now pushing at Sam's chest to keep him from going ballistic. Sam turned his pleading eyes to his older brother. "Dean, this isn't fair. You know that,"

"Yeah,I do. Listen- don't do anything stupid. They might possess us too, I have no idea why they haven't yet. Maybe it's because we're hunters, maybe 'cause we're strong or maybe they're plain scared of us. We don't know why but we can use that to our advantage, okay?" Dean whisper-shouted in urgency to placate his younger brother. Sam pulled his lower lip up and nodded, reassured. Satisfied for now, Dean looked over to the opposition where something evil was brewing. Rosie made a waving motion and all the windows started to be covered with black smoke.

The air grew heavy and it seemed as if Dean wasn't the only one that noticed it. Everyone seemed restless around him. There was a small crack in the fissure of the glass which kept on growing. They were waiting for the inevitable, Dean realized. Before he knew it, the breaks in the glass windows turned too big to keep out the smoke that was pushing against it. The room turned icy cold and Dean shivered in his clothes, jarring his bad arm which sent up sharp bolts of fire and ice all the way up to his shoulder. He clutched his arm tighter and dug his fingers in to keep it from moving. BIG MISTAKE. He is never doing that again. His hand now turned to pure fiery pain, all traces of the ice vanishing. Dean bit his lip, drawing blood. He shook his head to clear it, and again, regretted that action too. His vision turned blurry for a few seconds before returning to normal.

All of a sudden, the windows broke and the demonic smoke, clad-in-black. Cold spots,his dad had told him time and again. Watch out for cold spots. Dean wondered if a virtual freezer counted.

"Everyone, get under the tables," Sam shouted garnering the attention of everyone and everything in the room. Then Sammy did something unexpected, but totally Sam like. His younger brother clutched Dean's T-shirt using his right hand and his glare challenged him to make a joke out of what just happened.

Rosie came over and looked Dean up and down. He squinted as if trying to make something of the mystery in front of him. The smoke rushed forward and some part of it leaned over to whisper in Rosie's ear. He nodded then swung an arm back and then forward, punching Dean right below the eye. The pain shocked him, and Dean went with the force of the blow which would have been enough to throw him to the floor had it not been for Sam's hold on his clothes. He looked up back at Rosie.

Dean forced his gaze to be determined. He failed, spectacularly. His vision faltered and tripped over a few virtual stones lying in their way. He felt himself sag against Sam and his eyes flicked downwards. Sam's hands now circled his back trying to hold him up but couldn't because Dean was heavier and taller. He sinked, his knees touching the floor at a great speed, promising him bruises the next day. His eyes shut on their own accord and then he felt nothing.