Author's note: Rating changed to M

Chapter Eight: The hard way

The sun was just starting to make its way down from the highest point in the sky when the first houses appeared on the horizon. Dean tugged at the reins until his horse came to a halt. He fished the rifle out of his saddlebag and thrust it at Castiel.

'You're our best shot. You are up on the roof of the church,' Dean commanded without looking at him. Castiel accepted the weapon and handed it to Jessica. Dean caught his eye with a silent plea, but Castiel didn't respond.

'Hey, I ain't half bad,' Jessica protested, seeming to pick up on some of the tension between the two of them.

'I'll take the rear,' Bobby said. Dean looked them over. They were ready. Dean had never felt less ready. He couldn't do this. Why had he ever thought that he could do this?

'Anyone got something to say? Now's your chance. I'd be much obliged if you spoke up before we go in, 'cause you might not get the chance after,' he joked, managing to keep his voice from quavering.

'I'd like to say something,' Jessica announced. They all – Dean, Castiel, Raphael and Bobby – turned to her expectantly. She cleared her throat.

'There's a word for when you lose your parents, there's a word for when you lose your husband, but there's no word for when you lose your child. Why ain't there? I figure it's because you ain't supposed to outlive your children.'

'I didn't mean to,' Jessica whispered, wiping her eyes.

'Kill him, Dean. Kill him for Sam and for Grace. Kill him,' she concluded with murder in her eyes. Mercy was in small supply that day. They rode on without another word. Bobby went left, circling around the town to approach Lucifer's place from the back. When they came into town, Jessica veered towards the church.

The three men who were left entered the saloon. Gabriel sat at a table with cards in his hands as if he had not a care in the world. It completely threw Dean. It also answered the question of whether Gabriel had been lying about not knowing about the poison. Why else would he be here with Lucifer? Suddenly, Dean was itching for a fight.

Lucifer was mighty amused by their entrance.

'Family reunion?' he inquired, tipping his hat at Castiel and Raphael. Dean ignored that.

'Step outside,' he ordered.

'Yessir,' Lucifer mocked, remaining seated. He shook his head and clacked his tongue as if he was disappointed by the suggestion.

'That would hardly be fair, now would it?'

'I don't give a shit about fair,' Dean snapped. Sam and Grace didn't get fair, he thought. He cast a look around. The saloon was filled with Lucifer's men. A number of them were clearly mercenaries. Dean addressed the lot of them. He talked nice and slow, his eyes assessing each and every one of them. Dodge, Lucifer's right hand man, was grinning.

'I suggest you consider carefully whether this sonofabitch is someone you want to die for, because I'm going to kill him and everyone who stands in my way,' Dean declared.

Everyone remained. Dean shrugged.

'Alright. You motherfuckers are along for the ride.'

'You sure took a hell of a long time to get to it, buddy,' Dodge told Dean, while getting to his feet. He was enormous. He then turned to Lucifer.

'Let me pink him,' he pleaded, nearly chomping at the bit.

'Don't know of no one who will object if you shoot yourself a trespasser,' Lucifer said, casually. The big guy strolled towards Dean until Castiel stepped forward and barred his way. When Dodge saw that Castiel was ready to draw, he smirked. He gestured at his own holstered revolver.

'Only two reasons I ever take that out. Either I'm gonna clean it or I'm gonna kill something with it. So, boy, what's it gonna be?'

Castiel's eyes stayed on Dodge's face. His hand hovered just above his gun. The tension mounted until Dodge seemed to grow tired of waiting and reached for his weapon. He was dead before his hand touched the handle. Dean recoiled at the sight.

Then: pandemonium. Everyone started shooting. Pain knifed down Dean's spine. Time slowed down to a crawl. He got his gun out. The arc of it, from his hip to right in front of him with a stretched arm, took forever. He squeezed the trigger. Blood burst out of Lucifer's right kneecap and he rolled under the nearest table. Dean overturned it with one hand. Shots were still being fired, but far less frequently than a few seconds ago. Groaning, Dean kneeled and steadied his aim by resting his arm on his leg.

'Why?' Dean asked. 'Why kill them? I don't get it.'

'Why not?' the devil countered. Dean stared at him. Lucifer wet his lips. His hand pawed the floorboards for his gun.

'I will...' he began. That was as far as he got before Dean shot him. Calmly, the oldest, the only, Winchester brother observed the blood trickling from Lucifer's chest.

'You won't do shit.'