It's been brought to my attention that some people don't like reading long stories. So I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me on this one. :) I know my updating has been random and sometimes way too long between chapters throughout the entire thing, but you have all been patient and wonderful reviewers. So thanks. And I hope you like the new chapter.

Oh. And this one is a little gory I guess. Of course I've never been able to consider anything written to be 'gory' per say. Especially after seeing the wonderful things the our show itself has portrayed. ;) But anyway, it's war after all. I apologize for nothing. :)

Ch. 24

When they're down the hall from Dick's office, Dean motions to Sam to make sure he's actually in it. When Sam confirms, he turns his radio on. "Hawks have made it to the golden egg. Send in the troops in two minutes. Start with the quiet guns. We'll have him out before you get to the louder ones. He'll never know what hit him."

"Base to hawks, good work boys. Go get 'em. And be safe. I expect to see you back here with the rest of them."

Dean turns his radio back off, coming up beside Sam. "Let's get him Sammy."

Sam grins. "We just walking in?"

"Like we own the place," Dean answers. He opens the door, walking in as if this was an everyday occurrence. "So… Dick."

Roman turns, looking calm and collected as usual. But there's a small difference. He's stiff. Like he's calculating.

Dean smirks. "Nothing is going to stop us from taking you out this time."

Roman tilts his head. "Oh? So you've found a way to kill me?"

Sam chuckles now. "Let's find out," he growls.

Dean moves as a mirror image, both brothers moving around the desk to corner Roman between it and the wall. Dean chuckles when he sees his shifting eyes. "Nervous finally?"

Dick turns to him. "Hardly."

"You should be."

Dick smiles suddenly. "No. That's all you." Then there's the huge mouth of teeth going straight for Dean's throat.

Three things happen then that save Dean's life. There's the fact that he saw it coming. Knew Dick's tells. The smile he always made before striking. The slight step in his direction before the rows of teeth appeared. Second was stupid luck. Stepping back and almost tripping over one of the chairs around the desk. His neck fell away from the huge mouth aimed for it.

Third, of course, is Sam. And even though their plan was fuzzy on how to make sure Roman never made it out of this room, it all came together the moment he had his back towards Sam. Because Sam knew how to strike when someone's back was open. He learned that from the devil. So it was a cinch to sink two knives into Roman's back, right next to each other and slice him wide open, the knives themselves used to pry open the wound.

Dean stares up in shock from where he's holding himself up with the chair he's half fallen over. He can only stare for a second. Sam's face is both intent and maniacal at the same time. There's dark glee in his face, triumph from getting Roman while his back was turned and sick satisfaction at the carnage he's created.

Dick, in the meantime, is letting out a horrific cry which is actually what shocks Dean out of his daze. A couple seconds after Sam had sliced open Dick's back, Dean is standing next to his brother, flare gun aimed at the gash that's already healing. He shoots before it closes. Dick Roman goes up in flames.

What they had discovered during the strike they thought Dean had died during was that the leviathans were only effected by fire if the black goo was vulnerable. If they were 'bleeding'. It was highly flammable. But if skin was in the way, it didn't affect them. They were able to put it out before it made it through the skin to their black blood. So all they had to figure out was how to get Roman vulnerable enough for the flare gun to work. It seems he had opened the opportunity for them.

Sam doesn't stop there though. As the body goes up in flames, he cuts off the head and shoots his own flare at the bottom where the goo is leaking out. "Extra reassurance," Sam growls darkly.

Dean pulls out his radio. "Dick is dead. Send in the rest." He turns off his radio again, not caring to listen to Mark. He did his part. Now he has to help his brother. Going to stand in front of Sam, blocking his view of the burning body, he takes his brother's head in his hands. "Sammy."

Sam's eyes are unfocused. His hands are shaking. He doesn't react to Dean saying his name. Just stands frozen. Still glaring at the burning head.

Dean runs a hand through Sam's hair, taking Sam's chin in his other hand and aiming his face at him. "Sam. Don't you go back there. Don't you do that. You're not in hell. That wasn't the devil. He's not going to come back and hurt you. I'm here. We're both here. You just killed Dick Roman, Sam. You just did that. Now come on. We need to get out of here."

Sam's eyes slowly start to focus.

"That's it. C'mon bro. We need to do our part. There's a lot more leviathans we need to take out. It's not over yet. And we need to set our charges."

Sam's hands stop shaking. He looks down at his knives, eyes zeroing in on the black goo on the blades. That seems to get through to him. His eyes snap back up to Dean's. "Say it again," he breathes.

Dean knows exactly what he's talking about. "I'm here." He takes his brother's shoulders, grinning as he shakes them lightly. He's so proud of Sam. He's just pulled himself out of wherever he goes faster than he ever has before. "We're both here. And we need to get this party started. You ready?"

It's then that the wave of soldiers without suppressors make it to the building. As gunshots start to echo through the walls, Sam starts to slowly pull himself back together. He locks eyes with Dean as he wipes the goo on his blades on his sleeves. "Let's go."

Dean's eyes crinkle at the edges with his smile. "Like old times, eh Sammy?"

Sam only grins.

They leave the sanctuary of Dick's office, leaving him to finish burning behind them.

"Dick is dead. Send in the rest."

The command is said so sharply, all of Dean's previous joking gone, that Mark knows something is wrong. He silently prays that Sam is okay as he starts relaying the message and giving out commands.

"All teams without suppressors move in. We're all in now. Tell the teams already inside to start laying charges when they can. This is it people. Let's get them bleeding. We need to make sure as many as possible are down before we blow the joint."

As Mark's team relays the messages to everyone each of the orders pertains to, he turns to the sketched maps of the building that the map team had put together as accurately as possible from intel gathered. "Tell everyone to radio when their charges are set in their locations," he calls over his shoulder.

"Charge C says he's set already," someone manning a radio informs him.

Mark grins. Maybe this will be a good day. Success is already made by the killing of Dick Roman. Now they just have to take care of as many leviathans as possible. "Good job, boys," he murmurs to himself. The Winchesters are back.

Goo is everywhere. Heads are rolling. Monsters are being killed today. Unfortunately, red is also mixed in with the black on the white walls and floors.

Sam and Dean move together down the stairwell until they reach their floor. Dean fires off shot after shot until they get close enough for Sam to slice them apart. And slice them Sam does, a fire lit in his eyes that's been gone for way too long according to Dean. Then they have to separate to set their charges.

There are other men on this floor, trying to take out leviathans and pave the way for the others who have to set their own bombs. It's a slaughter house down here. This is where the second wave is arriving. Sam moves through them, helping where he can but always going for the area he needs to set.

More leviathans come up from the basement below right before Sam can get his backpack off his back. He ducks when he hears the cry behind him, waiting for the guns to stop before he goes after the leviathans that weren't hit while the men reload. Black splatters on him as a head hits the ground. He already has his knives sunk into another body, prying it apart and going for the head after the body has hit the ground.

He turns to the last one standing, but is just a second too slow. He finds himself airborne, flung into a wall. He hits it at his shoulder, but his breath is knocked out of him from the way the position compresses his lungs. He struggles to get up fast enough to protect himself. Luckily he doesn't have too. Rapid gunfire takes the creature out, sending his head into multiple places in the room.

Sam is still trying to get his breath back, using the wall to stand and slinging his bag off his shoulder when he feels a hand on his arm. He turns, freezing in shock when he sees it's Drake. His breath hitches and finally he's able to breathe again.

Drake chuckles. "There ya go. I was worried for a minute you weren't going to start breathing again."

Sam coughs, letting himself be led by Drake to his target area. "Thanks," he huffs.

Drake hears the shock in his voice. He shrugs. "I was a jerk before. I'm sorry. And your brother asked us to keep an eye on you. So I figured I could make it up to you that way."

Sam rolls his eyes. "That sounds like him." He lets himself plop down on the floor, opening his bag and pulling out the mess of wires and charges. He looks to Drake. "Let's get this set to blow, shall we?"

Drake grins. "It'll be my pleasure."

Dean finds them like that, eyes narrowing at the sight of Drake walking towards Sam until he sees that they're both finishing Sam's assigned task. When he sees Sam spot him and wink, he relaxes. So Drake changed his mind about Sam. Lovely. Better late than never he supposes. He offers Sam his hand to pull him smoothly to his feet. "Done?"

Sam nods, looking around at the carnage in the hall. The floor is secure. The men are moving to other areas in search of more leviathans. A few stay behind in each area to make sure the bodies don't put themselves together enough to keep the goo from being vulnerable to the fire that will come from the explosions.

Dean turns to Drake and the few men left on this floor. "Get out of here. We'll keep an eye on this floor."

They all nod, Drake throwing a casual salute as he turns to go up the stairs. Then it's just Sam and Dean, eyes scanning the bodies. Only three are human, noticeable by the red blood. That's not bad odds in war to be honest. Dean grins up at Sam. "We did it Sammy. A minute or two and we'll get the all clear that everyone has set their bombs and we'll be out of here. The building will blow and it'll all be over."

Sam blinks at the foreign concept. "Retirement."

Dean laughs. "If we can keep from attracting trouble out in our cabin."

Sam smiles suddenly, a look that shouldn't be in such a tense situation. "Home."

Dean puts his hand to Sam's shoulders, eyes still scanning the room for possible reassembling leviathans as he answers, "Yeah. Home."

Mark lets out a laugh of triumph when the last letter assigned to a bomb is called back to him. All of the bombs are ready to go. "Radio them all in. It's time to finish this." His team calls the retreat over the radios and he listens to every group answer in affirmative. Except Sam and Dean. He sighs. Hopes they're just busy with something.

"Remind them to radio the clear when they've made it far enough away to set the blast," Sky says over the radio. "Rendezvous point at the water tower. It should be visible to everyone. We can all trek back from there."

Mark nods to his team when they look to him for confirmation. "Tell the rest to radio team safety. When all have cleared, we'll set the place alight."

A minute and a half later, all teams have radioed that they're a safe distance away. Except Sam and Dean. Mark doesn't give the go ahead. He waits. Hopes. The two heroes of this war can't be left to die.

"Mark, have you heard from the Winchesters?"

"All teams evacuate. We're ready to detonate," is the warning called by whoever is manning the radio that reaches Sam and Dean.

The brothers take one more look around the room before they turn towards the stairs, looking for bodies putting themselves back together. Nothing yet. They should be good to go. Unfortunately, nothing ever works that smoothly for the Winchesters. Just as they turn to the stairs, a sparking sound catches Dean's attention.

They both turn, Sam finding the source of the sound first. He watches as another spark flies off of one of the wires on one of his bombs. "Damn."

Dean sees it too, grabbing Sam's arm and bolting towards the stairs.

They never make it. The bomb goes off after they're behind a wall, but it's bad enough that the whole floor in that area collapses. They both fall through, Sam scrambling to grab onto the edge of the crumbled floor but missing by mere inches. They both hit the ground, the big pieces of the floor falling all around them.

Sam hears Dean cry out, turning as he tumbles to land on top of his brother to shield him with his own body as the floor keeps crumbling when spots weaken from the spreading fire. He waits for the other bombs to go. None of them do. That's when Sam finally lets out a breath of relief and pushes himself up to look around for their way out. They have a chance to make it out before the fire reaches the other bombs and the rest of the floor blows.

But of course, it's never that easy. They never get a free pass. They're trapped. Not a speck of light makes it through other than the two ceiling lights that have survived enough to flicker above them. The big section of the floor…er… ceiling now, that has fallen is what has acted as a new wall. It's trapped them from the stairs. The other, smaller pieces have filled in the gaps. Fire still burns on a few. In short, they're not getting out of here.

Worse still, Dean hasn't moved from where he's still laying under Sam.

All of the teams are running towards the water tower after receiving the instructions, looking over their shoulders as they wait for the blast that never comes. What does come though, is a deep rumbling. The squads that are still closer to the building hear it first, slowing to look over their shoulder at the building. They see light emanating from the bottom floor.

"One of the bombs shorted," one of them radios.

"Which one?" Crow asks, on his way to the water tower with most of his group. The one radioing him now was in a squad farther away than the rest.

"Bottom floor."

"The Winchesters were down there," someone else from Crow's squads informs him.

"Well shit," Crow answers. He's just now making it to the water tower, sighing when he sees Sky's curious look. "A bomb shorted. No word on whether the Winchesters made it out of that floor."

Sky curses, lifting his radio. "Mark, have you heard from the Winchesters?"